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Copyright,    1901 

By 

THE    UNIVERSITY    SOCIETY 


A  MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S  DREAM, 


Preface. 


COLLB 
LIBRAF 

Ho  I 


The  Editions.  Two  Quarto  editions  of  A  Midsummer- 
Night's  Dream  appeared  in  the  year  1600: — 

(i.)  A  Midsiirnmer-nigJit' s  dreajiie.  As  it  hath  been 
sundry  times  publickely  acted,  by  the  Right  honourable, 
the  Lord  Chamberlaine  his  servants.  Written  by  William 
Shakespeare.  Imprinted  at  London,  for  Thomas  Fisher, 
and  are  ta  be  soidde  at  his  shoppe,  at  the  signe  of  the 
White  Hart,  in  Fleetestreet.     1600. 

(ii.)  An  edition  with  the  same  title,  bearing  the  name  of 
'lames  Roberts'  instead  of  '  Thomas  Fisher.' 

These  editions  are  styled  respectively  the  First  and  Sec- 
ond Quartos ;  the  Second  was  probably  a  pirated  reprint 
of  Fisher's,  but  the  differences  between  them  are  unim- 
portant, and  though  the  First  must  be  considered  the  au- 
thoritative text,  both  copies  are  remarkably  accurate,  when 
compared  with  other  Quartos. 

The  First  Folio  version  of  the  play  was  printed  from 
the  Second  Quarto,  with  a  few  slight  and  unimportant 
changes,  and  with  some  careless  errors. 

The  Date  of  Composition.  The  only  positive  piece  of 
external  evidence  for  the  date  of  A  Midsummer-N ight' s 
Dream  is  its  mention  by  Francis  Meres  in  his  Palladis  Ta- 
enia, 1598.  Various  attempts  have  been  made  to  fix  the 
occasion  for  which  the  play  was  originally  written.  Lord 
Southampton's  marriage  with  Elizabeth  Vernon  has  been 
proposed  by  some,  but  this  did  not  take  place  till  1598; 
others  maintain  that  the  occasion  was  the  marriage  of  the 
Earl  of  Essex  with  Lady  Frances  Sidney,  the  widow  of 
Sir  Philip  Sidney,  in  1590;   there  is,  however,  absolutely 


Preface  A  MIDSUMMER^ 

no  authority  for  the  statement,  and  the  probabiHties  are 
strongly  opposed  to  the  supposition. 

The  most  valuable  internal  indication  of  the  date  of 
composition  is  perhaps  to  be  found  in  Act  v.  i.  52-55  : — 

The  thrice  three  Muses  mourning  for  the  death 
Of  Learning,  late  deceased  in  beggary. 
This  is  some  satire,  keen  and  critical, 
Not  sorting  with  a  nuptial  ceremony. 

We  have  most  likely  in  these  lines  a  reference  to  the 
death  of  Robert  Greene,  '  utriiisque  Academics  in  Artihiis 
Magister/  the  novelist  and  dramatist,  whose  Groatszvorth 
of  Wit  contained  his  well-known  attack  on  '  the  onely 
Shake-scene  in  a  country  ' ;  in  this  pamphlet  Greene  spoke 
as  the  very  representative  of  '  Learning,'  and  sounded  the 
alarm  of  the  scholar-poets  at  the  triumphs  of  the  '  un- 
learned '  players  in  general,  and  of  one  '  upstart  crowe ' 
in  particular.  Greene  died  in  degraded  beggary  in  the 
autumn  of  1592.  The  phrase  'the  thrice  three  Muses' 
was  in  all  likelihood  suggested  by  Spenser's  Teares  of  the 
Muses  (published  in  1591),  in  which  the  nine  Muses  sev- 
erally bewail  the  neglect  of  scholars, — one  of  many  similar 
laments  to  be  found  in  Elizabethan  literature  (cp.  e.g. 
the  hues  at  the  end  of  the  first  sestiad  of  Marlowe's  Hero 
and  Leander).  The  words  '  late  deceased  '  would,  accord- 
ing to  this  interpretation,  fix  the  date  of  composition  at 
about  1592-3. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  maintained  that  Titania's  de- 
scription of  the  disastrous  state  of  the  weather  (II.  i.  88- 
117)  points  directly  to  the  wretched  summer  of  the  year 
1594;  various  contemporary  accounts  have  come  down  to 
us  of  that  terrible  year,  all  of  them  recalling  Shakespeare's 
words : — 

*  A  colder  time  in  world  was  never  scene : 

The  skies  do  loure,  the  sun  and  moone  wax  dim ; 
Summer  scarce  known,  but  that  the  leaves  are  greene. 

The  winter's  waste  drives  water  ore  the  brim ; 
Upon  the  land  great  flotes  of  wood  may  swim ;  ' 

— Churchyard's  Charitie,  1595. 
[cp.  Forman's  Diary    ( 1 564-1602)  ;    Stowe's  Chronicle, 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Preface 

under  the  year  1594;  Dr.  King's  Lectures  upon  Jonas  de- 
Uvcrcd  at  Yorke  in  the  year  of  our  Lorde  1594.] 

The  general  characteristics  of  the  play  lead  to  nothing 
very  definite  as  far  as  its  date  is  concerned ;  the  rhyme- 
test  is  obviously  no  criterion,  for  the  comedy  is  intention- 
ally lyrical ;  but  the  blank-verse,  with  its  paucity  of  double- 
endings  and  general  regularity,  the  carefully  elaborated 
plan  and  symmetrical  arrangement  of  the  plot,  the  com- 
parative absence  of  real  characterisation,  the  many  remi- 
niscences of  country  life,  the  buoyancy  of  its  tone,  all  these 
elements  manifestly  connect  A  Midsummer-Night's 
Dream  with  the  group  of  early  '  love  plays,' — Love's 
Labour's  Lost,  The  Tzvo  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  and  The 
Comedy  of  Errors,  and  it  may  reasonably  be  placed  be- 
tween this  group  and  the  play  to  which  they  all  seem  to 
serve  as  preparatory  efforts,  the  love-tragedy  of  *  Romeo 
and  Juliet,' — i.e.  about  the  years  1593- 1595.  In  all  prob- 
ability it  passed  through  various  revisions  before  its  ap- 
pearance as  we  have  it  in  the  First  Quarto. 

The  Sources,  (i.)  Shakespeare  may  well  have  evolved 
A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream  from  Chaucer's  Knight's 
Tale,"^  to  which  he  is  obviously  indebted  for  many  ele- 
ments. The  general  framework  of  the  play — viz.,  the 
marriage  of  Theseus  and  Hippolyta,  must  have  been  sug- 
gested by  the  Tale ;  but  Shakespeare  ingeniously  opens 
the  '  Dream '  before  the  marriage,  so  that  this  event  may 
round  off  the  whole  play ;  Chaucer  introduces  us  to  the 
pair  at  their  home-coming  after  the  marriage.  In  the 
'  Tale  '  we  have  Palamon  and  Arcite  rivals  for  the  hand 
of  Emelie ;  in  obedience  to  the  symmetrical  plan  of  Shake- 
speare's early  plots,  these  give  place  to  two  pairs  of  lovers, 
with  their  more  complex  story  of  crossed  love;  Emelie 
in  fact  resolves  herself  into  Helena  and  Hermia.  They 
are  indeed  "  two  lovely  berries  moulded  on  one  stem." 

*  Shakespeare's  debt  to  Plutarch's  Life  of  Theseus  amounts  to 
very  little — a  few  names  and  allusions ;  to  these  attention  is  called 
in  the  notes. 


Preface  A  MIDSUMMER- 

The  great  gods  of  Olympus,  who  busy  themselves  so 
actively  with  the  destinies  of  the  lovers  in  the  '  Tale/  are 
represented  in  the  '  Dream  '  by  their  mediaeval  representa- 
tives, by  Oberon,  Titania,  and  their  ministering  sprites. 

In  the  '  Tale,'  as  in  the  '  Dream,'  we  have  the  same  allu- 
sions to  the  rites  of  May,  and  the  same  '  musical  confusion 
of  hoimds  and  echo  in  conjunction.'  Shakespeare  has, 
however,  wisely  dispensed  with  the  cumbersome  machin- 
ery of  the  '  Tale  ' — cumbersome  from  the  theatrical  point 
of  view — viz.,  the  dungeons,  tournaments,  etc.  The  Tzvo 
Noble  Kinsmen  should  be  read  in  order  to  understand 
how  weak  a  drama  results  from  the  actual  dramatisation 
of  Chaucer's  story  of  Palamon  and  Arcite."^ 

The  secret  of  the  transformation  of  The  Knight's  Tale 
into  A  Midsummev-NigJit' s  Dream  may  perhaps  be  par- 
tially understood,  if  we  consider  the  task  that  Shakespeare 
seems  to  have  set  himself,- — the  task  of  satisfying  all  the 
requirements  of  a  '  Court  drama  '  without  departing  from 
his  own  ideas  of  Romantic  Comedy.  The  essential  elements 
of  such  a  play  as  Lyly's  Endymion, — the  spectacular  ma- 
chinery, the  mythological  agencies,  the  love-story,  the  com- 
ical interlude,  the  complimentary  allusions  to  the  Queen, 
direct  or  allegorical, — all  these  find  a  place  in  Shake- 
speare's Dream. 

(ii.)  Popular  tradition,  derived  from  Teutonic  and  Cel- 
tic paganism,  together  with  quasi-classical  and  romantic 
lore,  are  the  main  sources  of  Shakespeare's  fairy  mythol- 
ogy, f     Oberon,  the  fairy  king,  found  a  place  in  English 

*  I  cannot  bring  myself  to  believe  that  there  is  a  line  of  Shake- 
speare's in  this  unequal  performance ;  it  is  specially  interesting  to 
note  that  the  authors  of  the  Two  Noble  Kinsmen  must  have 
known  that  the  'Dream'  represented  Shakespeare's  version  of 
the  '  Tale: 

t  N.  B.  '  Fairy '  properly  signifies  merely  '  enchantment,'  or  the 
state  of  being  like  a  fay,  fee,  with  its  various  cognates  In  other 
Romance  languages  is  derived  from  a  low  Latin  fata,  '  a  goddess 
of  destiny,'  really  a  plural  of  fatum,  treated  as  a  feminine  singu- 
lar. The  application  of  this  term  to  the  'elves'  of  Teutonic 
mythology  is  in  itself  instructive. 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Preface 

dramatic  literature*  before  Shakespeare  re-created  him; 
he  may  be  traced  back  to  the  Charlemagne  romance  of 
Hiion  of  Bordeaux,  translated  from  the  French  by  Lord 
Bemers  about  1534  {cp.  Early  English  Text  Society,  Ex- 
tra Series,  ed.  S.  Lee,  Xos.  40,  41,  43,  50).  '  Oberon,'  in 
reality  identical  with  the  famous  dwarf  '  Alberich  '  of  the 
Nihelungen  Lied,  dwells  with  all  his  fairy  subjects  in  a 
forest  on  the  way  to  Babylon,  and  the  splendour  of  his 
equipment  has  a  truly  oriental  colouring ;  similarly  Shake- 
speare associates  his  '  fairy-land  '  with  the  East — '  the 
farthest  steep  of  India.' 

'  Titania  '  (taken  from  Ovid,  Metam.  IV.  346,  where  it 
is  applied  to  Diana)  illustrates  the  belief  current  at  the 
time  that  the  fairies  were  identical  with  the  classical 
nymphs,  and  that  Diana  was  their  queen,  f  Titania's 
more  popular  title  was  '  Queen  Mab.' 

In  Chaucer's  Merchant's  Tale  the  Fairy-King  and 
Fairy-Queen  are  styled  Pinto  and  Proserpina]  possibly 
Shakespeare  was  indebted  to  Chaucer's  Tale  for  the 
quarrel  between  Oberon  and  Titania,  and  for  the  Fairy- 
King's  interest  in  a  pair  of  mortals: — 

'  Pluto  that  is  King  of  Faerie, 
And  many  a  lady  in  his  companie 
Following  his  wife,  the  Queen  Proserpina    .... 
Dame,  quod  this  Pluto,  be  no  longer  wroth, 
I  am  king,  it  sit  me  not  to  lie. 
And  I,  quoth  she,  am  Queen  of  Faerie, 
Let  us  no  more  wordes  of  it  make.' 

(It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  Spenser's  Faerie 
Queene  was  published  in  1590.) 

The  characteristics  of  'Puck/  Oberon's  jester,  ('thou 
loh  of  spirits,  i.e.  clown,'  II.  1-16)  may  all  have  been  de- 
rived from  popular  tradition ;  the  name  was  probably  of 
Celtic  origin,  a  generic  term  for  '  sprite  or  goblin,'  but  it 

*  In  Greene's  James  IV.,  where  he  figures  as  '  Oboram,  King  of 
the  Fayeries';  {cp.  The  Fairy  Queen,  Bk.  ii.,  Cant,  i.,  Sts.  6,  75). 

t  King  James  I.  in  his  Demonologie  points  out  that  Diana  was 
'  amongst  us  called  the  Phairee.' 


Preface  A  MIDSUMMER^ 

is  found  in  English  before  the  Conquest,  and  very  early 
in  Scandinavian  and  other  dialects.  The  mischief-loving 
sprite  was  generally  known  as  '  Robin  Goodfellozv/  in 
Enghsh,  and  '  Knecht  Ruprccht'  in  German.  (On  the 
Fairy-lore,  cp.  Halliwell's  Illustrations  of  the  Fairy  My- 
thology of  Midsuninier-Nighfs  Dream,  Shakespeare  So- 
ciety Pubhcation,  1845,  where  among  other  illustrative 
texts  '  The  Mad  Pranks  and  Merry  Jests  of  Robin  Good- 
fellow'  (printed  1628)  will  be  found  in  extenso;  also 
Keightley's  Fairy  Mythology;  cp,  Jonson's  Mask  of 
Oberon,  Drayton's  Nymphidia,  Milton's  L' Allegro,  100- 

114); 

(iii.)  It  is  significant  that  in  Chaucer's  Merchant's  Tale, 
to  which  allusion  has  already  been  made,  occur  the  follow- 
ing lines : — 

'  O  noble  Ovide,  soth  sayest  thou,  God  wot, 
What  sleight  is  it  if  love  be  long  and  hote, 
That  he  will  find  it  cut  in  some  manere? 
By  Pyramus  and  TJiisbe  may  men  lere ; 
Though  they  were  kept  ful  long  and  strict  over  all. 
They  ben  accorded,  rowning  through  a  wall,'  etc.* 

Perhaps  these  lines  suggested  to  Shakespeare  the  sub- 
ject of  his  burlesque  interlude,  introduced  into  this  play 
much  in  the  same  way  as  the  '  Nine  Worthies  '  in  Love's 
Labour's  Lost.  Various  poems,  ballads,  and  perhaps 
mumming  plays  on  the  subject  of  Pyramus  and  Thisbe 
were  probably  known  to  Shakespeare,  though  his  imme- 
diate source  seems  to  have  been  Golding's  translation  of 
Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  where  the  story  is  told  (iv.  55- 
166). 

A  commonplace-book  of  the  beginning  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  belonging  to  the  British  Museum  (ATidi- 
tional  MSS.  15227)  contains  a  short  play  entitled  ''  Tra- 
gcedia  miserrima  Pyrami  et  Thisbes  Fata  emincians  [His- 
toria  ex  Publio  Ovidio  deprompta]  Author e  N.R."     A 

*  Chaucer's  Legend  of  Thisbe  of  Babylon  was  certainly  read  by 
Shakespeare,  though  its  influence  cannot  be  detected  in  the  play. 

6 


NIGHT*S  DREAM  Preface 

few  lines  from  these  brief  '  tedious  '  scenes  will  serve  to 
show  how  easily  the  subject  lends  itself  to  burlesque: — 

"  What  shall  I  docf    I  know  not  what  to  doe. 
Where  shall  I  runne,  oh  runnef    I  cannot  goe. 
Where  shall  I  goe,  oh  goe?    I  cannot  stirre," 

Among  Clement  Robinson's  Handful  of  Pleasant  De- 
lights (1584)  there  is  'A  New  Sonet  of  Pyramus  and 
Thisbe/  which  occasionally  reminds  one  of  Shakespeare's 
parody. 

[''Narcissus,  A  Tzvelfe  Night  Merriment  played  by 
Youths  of  the  Parish  at  the  College  of  S.  John  the  Bap- 
tist in  Oxford,  A.D.  1602  {cd.  Margaret  Lee;  David 
Nutt,  1893)  is  a  similar  burlesque  of  an  Ovidian  story.] 

(iv.)  '  Oberon's  Vision' — the  pivot  of  the  play — con- 
tains without  doubt  a  complimentary  allusion  to  the 
Queen.  Various  explanations  have  been  advanced  of  the 
whole  passage  (II.  i.  148-168).  In  1843  the  Rev.  N.  J. 
Halpin  published  his  '  0 heron's  Vision  in  the  Midsum- 
mer-Night's Dream,  illustrated  by  a  comparison  zvith  Ly- 
lie's  Endymion ' — the  most  ingenious  unravelling  of  this 
allegorical  passage,  which  is  said  to  refer  to  the  Queen's 
visit  to  Kenilworth  Castle  in  July,  1575  ;  to  the  festivities 
on  that  occasion ;  to  the  ambitious  attempts  of  Leicester 
('  Cupid  all  arm'd,'  Lyly's  Endymion)  to  win  Elizabeth 
('the  cold  moon,'  Lyly's  Cynthia)  ;  to  his  wavering  pas- 
sion for  the  Countess  of  Sheffield  ('  the  earth'  Lyly's  Tel- 
lus)  ;  and  finally  to  his  intrigue  with  Lettice,  Countess  of 
Essex  ('  a  little  ivestern  flower,'  Lyly's  Floscula). 

Time  of  Action.  The  action  of  the  play  covers  three 
days,  or  rather  one  long  night  preceded  and  followed  by  a 
day,  although  Theseus  in  his  opening  words  tells  Hippo- 
lyta  "  Four  happy  days  "  are  to  elapse  before  their  nup- 
tial hour.  The  eventful  night  of  the  second  day  occupies 
the  greater  part  of  the  play — viz..  Acts  II.,  III.,  and  IV. 
Sc.  i.  (11.  1-142).  The  following  morning  is  "the  morn 
of  May";  "the  Dream"  is  really  "a  May-Night's 
Dream,"  but  '  Midsummer  Eve  ' — '  St  John's  Night,'  with 
its  pagan  Balefires — was  especially  associated  with  fairy 


Preface  A  MIDSUMMER^ 

superstitions  and  fantastic  riotings,  and  the  title  suggests 
little  more  than  '  a  very  Midsummer  madness.'  It  is  not 
absolutely  necessary,  as  some  scholars  maintain,  to  regard 
the  play  as  actually  written  for  performance  '  on  Midsum- 
mer-day at  Night,'  though  such  plays  were  occasionally 
composed  (e.g.  Ben  Jonson's  Fairy  Masque  *  The  Satyr/ 
which  evidently  owes  much  to  Shakespeare). 

The  idea  of  a  '  dream-drama  '  was  perhaps  suggested  by 
Lyly's  Prologue  to  his  Woman  in  the  Moon,  written  some 
ten  years  before  Shakespeare's  play : — 

'Remember  all  is  but  a  poet's  dream, 
The  Urst  he  had  in  Phoebus'  holy  bower, 
But  not  the  last,  unless  the  Urst  displease' 

But  in  employing  '  the  Dream '  as  a  piece  of  poetical 
machinery  Shakespeare  links  himself  to  his  mediaeval  pre- 
decessors, whose  conventional  allegories  knew  no  other 
medium  than  that  made  familiar  to  them  by  their  favour- 
ite '  Romaunt/ — a  device  derived  by  Lorris  from  the 
quaint  dream-book  to  which  Chaucer  often  refers,  '  Scip- 
ionis  Somnium,'  by  '  an  author  hight  Macrobes.' 

**^ob  turne  \xi  ctoerp  dream  to  0ootip* 


A  Pensioner  (II.  i.  lo)  of  the 
time  of  Elizabeth. 


NIGHT'S  DREAM 


Critical  Comments. 
I. 

Argument. 

I,  Theseus,  Duke  of  Athens,  after  conquering-  the 
Amazons  in  battle,  is  in  turn  conquered  by  the  charms 
of  their  queen,  Hippolyta,  and  phghts  troth  with  her. 
To  speed  the  time  until  their  wedding  night,  he  orders 
amusements  to  be  put  on  foot.  Actuated  by  a  spirit  of 
loyalty,  Bottom  the  weaver  and  other  tradesmen  prepare 
a  play  for  the  Duke. 

Egeus,  an  Athenian,  brings  his  daughter  Hermia  and 
her  two  suitors  before  Theseus,  praying  him  to  com- 
mand Hermia  to  wed  Demetrius.  Hermia  pleads  to 
be  allowed  to  marry  the  one  she  loves — Lysander.  The 
Duke  orders  her  to  obey  her  father  under  penalty  of 
death  or  of  a  conventual  life.  Hermia  and  Lysander 
bewail  the  harsh  decree,  and  secretly  agree  to  meet  in  a 
wood  near  by  and  flee  to  another  country.  They  tell 
their  plans  to  Helena,  a  jilted  sweetheart  of  Demetrius, 
and  she,  to  win  back  his  love,  goes  straightway  to  in- 
form him  of  the  design. 

II,  In  the  forest  is  great  commotion  among  the 
fairies.  King  Oberon  and  Queen  Titania  are  at  odds. 
Oberon  bids  Puck  procure  a  love-juice  to  pour  upon  Ti- 
tania's  eyeHds  when  she  is  asleep,  in  order  that  she  may 
love  the  first  thing  her  waking  eyes  behold.  Just  then 
Oberon  perceives  Demetrius,  who  has  sought  out  the 
trysting-place  of  Lysander  and  Hermia,  only  to  meet 
Helena,  much  to  his  distaste.  The  lady's  distress  at  her 
lover's  coldness  softens  the  heart  of  Oberon,  who  bids 
Puck  touch  Demetrius's  eyes  also  with  the  love-juice,  for 
Helena's  sake,  while  he  himself  anoints  the  eyes  of  Ti- 


Comments  A  MIDSUMMER- 

tania.  Meantime  Lysander  and  Hermia  arrive,  and 
Puck  in  error  anoints  Lysander's  instead  of  Demetrius's 
eyes;  so  that  Lysander,  happening  to  awake  just  as  the 
neglected  Helena  wanders  by,  falls  in  love  with  her,  to 
the  abandonment  of  Hermia. 

III.  This  same  enchanted  spot  in  the  forest  happens 
to  be  the  place  selected  by  Bottom  the  weaver  and  his 
companions  for  the  final  rehearsal  of  their  play.  The 
roguish  Puck  passes  that  way  while  they  are  rehearsing, 
and  decides  to  take  a  hand  in  the  proceedings.  He 
crowns  Bottom  with  an  ass's  head,  whereupon  the  other 
players  disperse  terror-stricken.  Then  he  brings  Bot- 
tom to  Titania,  whose  enchanted  gaze  fixes  upon  the 
human  ass  as  her  heart's  love. 

Meantime  the  four  lovers  come  into  great  bewilder- 
ment. Oberon  finds  that  Puck  has  anointed  the  eyes 
of  Lysander  instead  of  those  of  Demetrius,  which  he 
himself  now  takes  occa^on  to  touch.  When  Demetrius 
awakes  he  sees  his  neglected  Helena  being  wooed  by 
Lysander.  His  own  love  for  her  returns,  and  he  is  ready 
to  fight  Lysander.  Helena  deems  them  both  to  be 
mocking  her;  while  Hermia  is  dazed  by  the  turn  of  af- 
fairs. The  fairies  interpose  and  prevent  conflict  by 
causing  the  four  to  wander  about  until  they  are  tired, 
when  they  fall  asleep.  Puck  repairs  his  blunder  by 
anointing  Lysander's  eyes,  in  order  to  dispel  the  illusion 
caused  by  the  love-juice. 

IV.  Titania  makes  love  to  Bottom,  till  Oberon, 
whose  anger  has  abated,  removes  the  spell  from  her 
eyes.  To  Bottom  is  restored  his  natural  form,  and  he 
rejoins  his  comrades  in  Athens.  Theseus,  on  an  early 
morning  hunting-trip  in  the  forest,  discovers  the  four 
lovers.  Explanations  follow;  the  Duke  relents  and  be- 
stows Helena  upon  Demetrius  and  Hermia  upon  Ly- 
sander. 

V.  A  wedding-feast  for  three  couples  instead  of  one 
only  is  spread  in  Duke  Theseus's  palace.  Thither  come 
Bottom's  players  to  present  the  comic  tragedy  of  ''  Pyr- 

10 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Commenis 

amus  and  Thisbe,"  which  is  performed  in  \yondrous 
fashion.  After  the  company  retires  for  the  night,  the 
fairies  dance  through  the  corridors  on  a  mission  of  bless- 
ing and  good-will  for  the  three  wedded  pairs. 

McSpadden:  Shakespearian  Synopses. 

II. 

The  Fairy  World. 

The  fairy  world  becomes  [in  this  play]  as  diversified 
as  the  natural,  and  we  find  degrees  and  orders  among 
the  flimsy  population,  from  the  robed  and  circleted  Ob- 
eron  and  his  Queen,  the  humorsome  but  observant  Puck, 
the  deft  fairy  mistress  of  robes  and  dewer  of  floral  orbs, 
to  the  cloud  of  graceful  dancers,  and  the  small  elves 
not  disdainful  of  dapper  jerkins  from  leather  of  rear- 
mice.  The  diminutiveness  and  delicacy  ascribed  to  the 
quaint  spirits  are  leading  characteristics  of  the  poetical 
ideal  portrayed,  and  at  the  same  time  appear  most  dif- 
ficult of  dramatic  rendering.  Yet  the  poet  appears  to 
make  no  concession  from  consideration  of  the  player; 
he  rather  insists,  with  recurring  emphasis,  on  the  tiny 
and  airy  essence  of  the  beings  he  imagines,  and  demands 
that  details  as  fragile  and  minute  as  those  which,  in 
mere  license  of  unlimited  description,  are  ascribed  to 
Queen  Mab's  equipage  in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  shall  here 
be  bodily  set  forth,  Peasblossom,  Cobweb,  and  their 
compeers,  are  as  defined  personalities  as  courtiers  and 
gold  sticks,  lords  in  waiting,  yeomen  of  the  guard,  and 
gentlemen  pensioners  ever  can  be.  Answering  to  quaint 
names,  but  speaking  little  else,  they  execute  sedulous 
and  unquestioning,  and  with  no  sense  of  incongruity,  all 
commands  of  their  sovereign,  and  with  equal  zeal  watch 
round  '*  her  close  and  consecrated  bower,"  or  scratch 
the  ass's  nowl  of  any  anamorphosed  fool  who  happensto 
be  a  royal  favourite.  Yet  they  attend  and  answer  with 
the  heart  of  elves  not  too  big  to  find  a  full  suit  in  a  bat's 

II 


Comments  A  MIDSUMMER= 

wing,  but  able-bodied  for  warfare  singly  against  the  red- 
hipped  humble-bee,  only  wary  withal  of  the  bursting 
honey  bag — or  even,  in  phalanx,  against  the  hooting  owl 
with  its  broad  wondering  eyes,  but  scared  when  the 
voices  of  their  sovereigns  rise  in  domestic  debate,  and 
happy  to  dive,  more  than  two  together,  into  the  depths 
of  a  concealing  acorn  cup.  Delicately  they  can  transfer 
and  handle  a  dew-drop — a  fairy  ring  on  the  grass  afifords 
space  for  a  multitude  of  them — and  for  time,  a  minute 
requires  micrometrical  division — "  Then  for  the  third 
part  of  a  minute  hence  " — for  the  apportionment  of  their 
most  complicated  undertakings. 

Such,  however,  is  the  perfect  harmony  of  imagery 
and  allusion,  that,  while  the  fairies  are  alone  on  the  stage, 
it  might  be  easy  for  the  eye  to  mistake  the  scale  of  the 
actors,  with  slight  assistance  of  sex  and  age  in  the  cast. 
Some  aid  may  be  gained  by  a  moderated  disproportion 
in  the  forest  scenery,  flowers,  turf,  mushrooms,  etc.,  and 
the  trunk  of  the  ''  Duke's  oak."  Add  to  this  careful  at- 
tention to  contrast  the  fairy  costume  with  that  of  even 
the  female  characters  of  the  play,  to  illuminate  the  stage 
sufficiently  for  the  play  of  countenance  to  be  discovered 
through  the  long  night  scenes,  otherwise  vexatious,  and 
stage  resources  will  have  done  all  that  is  necessary,  and 
the  rest  may  be  left  to  the  force  of  the  poetry,  which 
will  solicit,  will  exact,  prompt  acquiescence  in  all  its 
postulates,  and  to  the  gradation  of  relief  from  the  be- 
wildered lovers  to  the  amateur  actors  and  their  trans- 
lated coryphaeus. 

Lloyd  :  Critical  Essays  on  the  Plays  of  Shakespeare. 

III. 
Effects  of  Contrast. 

We  can  readily  perceive  why,  in  this  work,  the 
"  rude  mechanicals  "  and  clowns,  and  the  company  of 
actors  with  their  burlesque  comedy,  are  placed  in  such 

12 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Comments 

rude  contrast  to  the  tender  and  delicate  play  of  the 
fairies.  Prominence  is  given  to  both  by  the  contrast 
afforded  between  the  material  and  the  aerial,  between 
the  awkward  and  the  beautiful,  between  the  utterly 
unimaginative  and  that  which,  itself  fancy,  is  entirely 
woven  out  of  fancy.  The  play  acted  by  the  clowns  is, 
as  it  were,  the  reverse  of  the  poet's  own  work,  which 
demands  all  the  spectator's  reflective  and  imitative 
fancy  to  open  to  him  this  aerial  world,  whilst  in  the 
other  nothing  is  left  to  the  imagination  of  the  specta- 
tor. The  homely  mechanics,  wdio  compose  and  act 
merely  for  gain,  and  for  the  sake  of  so  many  pence  a 
day,  the  ignorant  players,  with  hard  hands  and  thick 
heads,  whose  unskilful  art  consists  in  learning  their  parts 
by  heart,  these  men  believe  themselves  obliged  to  rep- 
resent Moon  and  Moonshine  by  name  in  order  to  render 
them  evident;  they  supply  the  lack  of  side-scenes  by  per- 
sons, and  all  that  should  take  place  behind  the  scenes 
they  explain  by  digressions.  These  rude  doings  are 
disturbed  by  the  fairy  chiefs  w4th  their  utmost  raillery, 
and  the  fantastical  company  of  lovers  mock  at  the  per- 
formance. 

Gervinus  :  Shakespeare  Commentaries. 

IV. 
PucK  and  His  Pranks. 

Puck  is  apt  to  remind  one  of  Ariel,  though  they  have 
little  in  common,  save  that  both  are  supernatural,  and 
therefore  Hve  no  longer  in  the  faith  of  reason.  Puck  is 
no  such  sweet-mannered,  tender-hearted,  music-breath- 
ing spirit,  there  are  no  such  delicate  interweavings  of  a 
sensitive  moral  soul  in  his  nature,  he  has  no  such  soft 
touches  of  compassion  and  pious  awe  of  goodness,  as 
link  the  dainty  Ariel  in  so  sweetly  with  our  best  sym- 
pathies. Though  Goodfellow  by  name,  his  powers  and 
aptitudes  for  mischief  are  quite  unchecked  by  any  gentle 

13 


Comments  A  MIDSUMMER- 

relentings  of  fellow-feeling:  in  whatsoever  distresses  he 
finds  or  occasions  he  sees  much  to  laugh  at,  nothing  to 
pity:  to  tease  and  vex  poor  human  sufferers,  and  then 
to  think  "  what  fools  these  mortals  be,"  is  pure  fun  to 
him;  and  if  he  do  not  cause  pain,  it  is  that  the  laws 
of  Fairydom  forbid  him,  not  that  he  wishes  it  uncaused. 
Yet,  notwithstanding  his  mad  pranks,  we  cannot  choose 
but  love  him,  and  let  our  fancy  frolic  with  him,  his  sense 
of  the  ludicrous  is  so  exquisite,  he  is  so  fond  of  sport, 
and  so  quaint  and  merry  in  his  mischief,  while  at  the 
same  time  such  is  the  strange  web  of  his  nature  as  to 
keep  him  morally  innocent.  It  would  seem  that  some 
of  the  tricks  once  ascribed  to  him  were  afterwards  trans- 
ferred to  witchcraft.  Well  do  we  remember  a  Tplack 
spot  in  the  bottom  of  the  old  churn  over  which  we  have 
toiled  away  many  an  autumnal  evening.  A  red-hot 
horseshoe  had  been  thrown  in  to  disbewitch  the  cream, 
and  had  left  its  mark  there..  Report  told  how  a  certain 
old  woman  of  the  neighbourhood  was  fretting  and  groan- 
ing the  next  morning  with  a  terrible  burn.  Of  course 
she  was  burnt  out  of  the  churn,  and,  she  away,  the  but- 
ter soon  came. 

Hudson  :  The  Works  of  Shakespeare. 

V. 

Titania. 

[Shakespeare's  fairies]  can  make  no  direct  inward 
impression  upon  mortals;  their  influence  over  the  mind 
is  not  spiritual,  but  throughout  material;  it  is  effected 
by  means  of  vision,  metamorphosis,  and  imitation.  Ti- 
tania has  no  spiritual  association  with  her  friend,  but 
mere  delight  in  her  beauty,  her  "  swimming  gait,"  and 
her  powers  of  imitation.  When  she  awakes  from  her 
vision  there  is  no  reflection.  "  Alethought  I  was  enam- 
oured of  an  ass,"  she  says — "  O,  how  mine  eyes  do 
loathe  his  visage  now !  "    She  is  only  affected  by  the  idea 

14 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Comments 

of  the  actual  and  the  visible.  There  is  no  scene  of  recon- 
ciliation with  her  husband;  her  resentment  consists  in 
separation,  her  reconciliation  in  a  dance;  there  is  no 
trace  of  reflection,  no  indication  of  feeHng.  Thus,  to 
remind  Puck  of  a  past  event  no  abstract  date  sufficed, 
but  an  accompanying  indication,  perceptible  to  the 
senses,  was  required.  They  are  represented,  these  little 
gods,  as  natural  souls,  without  the  higher  human  capaci- 
ties of  mind,  lords  of  a  kingdom,  not  of  reason  and  mo- 
rality, but  of  imagination  and  ideas  conveyed  by  the 
senses;  and  thus  they  are  uniformly  the  vehicle  of  the 
fancy  which  produces  the  delusions  of  love  and  dreams. 
Their  will,  therefore,  only  extends  to  the  corporeal.  They 
lead  a  luxurious,  merry  life,  given  up  to  the  pleasures  of 
the  senses;  the  secrets  of  nature  and  the  powers  of 
flowers  and  herbs  are  confided  to  them.  To  sleep  in 
flowers,  lulled  with  dances  and  songs,  with  the  wings  of 
painted  butterflies  to  fan  the  moonbeams  from  their  eyes, 
this  is  their  pleasure  ;  the  gorgeous  apparel  of  flowers  and 
dewdrops  is  their  joy.  When  Titania  wishes  to  allure 
her  beloved,  she  offers  him  honey,  apricots,  purple 
grapes,  and  dancing. 

Gervixus:  Shakespeare  Commentaries. 

VI. 
Bottom, 

When  Malvollo  [In  Twelfth  Night]  is  trying  to  break 
up  the  midnight  revel,  the  mischievous  Maria  fleers  at 
him  with,  "  Go  shake  your  ears."  That  is  a  performance 
for  which  Malvolio  is  still  too  distant  from  his  congener. 
But  self-sufficiency  succeeds  in  preserving  that  structure 
In  Bottom,  who  is  so  deep  and  rich  with  harmless  vanity 
that  he  sprouts  into  the  auricular  appendages,  and  he 
shakes  them  in  the  most  amiable,  frisky  way  through 
the  Dream  of  a  Midsummer  Night.  But  there  is  noth- 
ing sour  about  Bottom;  he  has  none  of  the  quality  v/hich 

15 


Comments  A  MIDSUMMER- 

Margaret  Fuller  was  the  first  to  call  "  aloofness."  He 
is  hale-fellow  with  all  his  mates  who  appreciate  the  small 
gifts  which  belong  to  him,  and  which  he  good-naturedly 
strives  to  render  serviceable.  Though  he  is  a  better 
fellow  than  Malvolio,  he  has  all  that  precisian's  ambi- 
tion; for  as  the  steward  could  be  OHvia's  husband  as 
well  as  any  other  man — forsooth,  why  not? — so  Bottom 
thinks  he  can  play  all  the  parts,  rises  to  their  gHttering 
bait,  and  would  appropriate  the  whole  interlude.  He 
is  one  of  those  self-made  men  who  occasionally  discredit 
their  own  bringing  up  and  help  us  to  recover  our  respect 
for  a  liberal  education.  Like  the  man  of  wdiom  Sydney 
Smith  said  that  he  was  ready  at  any  moment  to  under- 
take the  command  of  the  Channel  Fleet  or  run  a  fac- 
tory, they  have  elbowed  their  way  into  a  conviction  that 
they  can  fill  all  the  offices  from  constable  to  President 
in  a  style  to  astonish  men  of  disciplined  intelligence. 
And  they  frequently  succeed  in  doing  that.  Men  who 
unfortunately  enjoyed  early  advantages,  and  whose  lives 
have  perhaps  been  a  protracted  training  in  the  virtue  as 
well  as  wit  which  lifts  state-craft  above  gambling,  have 
the  proper  kind  of  admiration  for  these  chevaliers  of  in- 
dustry.    .     .     . 

It  is  also  a  suggestion  of  the  subtlest  humor  when 
Titania  summons  her  fairies  to  wait  upon  Bottom;  for 
the  fact  is  that  the  soul's  airy  and  nimble  fancies  are 
constantly  detailed  to  serve  the  donkeyism  of  this  world. 
"  Be  kind  and  courteous  to  this  gentleman."  Divine 
gifts  stick  musk-roses  in  his  sleek,  smooth  head.  The 
world  is  a  peg  that  keeps  all  spiritual  being  tethered. 
James  Watt  agonizes  to  teach  this  vis  inertice  to  drag  it- 
self by  the  car-load;  Palissy  starves  for  twenty  years  to 
enamel  its  platter;  Franklin  charms  its  house  against 
thunder;  Raphael  contributes  halos  to  glorify  its  igno- 
rance of  divinity;  all  the  poets  gather  for  its  beguilement, 
hop  in  its  walk  and  gambol  before  it,  scratch  its  head, 
bring  honey-bags,  and  light  its  farthing  dip  at  glow- 
worms' eyes.    Bottom's  want  of  insight  is  circled  round 

i6 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Comments 

by  fulness  of  insight,  his  clumsiness  by  dexterity.  In 
matter  of  eating,  he  really  prefers  provender:  "good 
hay,  sweet  hay,  hath  no  fellow."  But  how  shrewdly 
Bottom  manages  this  holding  of  genius  to  his  service! 
He  knows  how  to  send  it  to  be  oriented  with  the  blos- 
soms and  the  sweets,  giving  it  the  characteristic  counsel 
not  to  fret  itself  too  much  in  the  action. 

You  see  there  is  nothing  sour  and  cynical  about  Bot- 
tom. His  daily  peck  of  oats,  with  plenty  of  munching- 
time,  travels  to  the  black  cell  where  the  drop  of  gall  gets 
secreted  into  the  ink  of  starving  thinkers,  and  sings 
content  to  it  on  oaten  straw.  Bottom,  full-ballasted, 
haltered  to  a  brown-stone-fronted  crib,  with  digestion 
always  waiting  upon  appetite,  tosses  a  tester  to  Shak- 
speare,  who  might,  if  the  tradition  be  true,  have  held  his 
horse  in  the  purlieus  of  the  Curtain  or  Rose  Theatre: 
perhaps  he  sublet  the  holding  while  he  slipped  in  to 
show  Bottom  how  he  is  a  deadly  earnest  fool;  and  the 
boxes  crow  and  clap  their  unconsciousness  of  being  put 
into  the  poet's  celestial  stocks.  All  this  time  Shak- 
speare  is  divinely  restrained  from  bitterness  '  by  the 
serenity  which  overlooks  a  scene.  If,  like  the  ostrich, 
he  had  been  only  the  largest  of  the  birds  which  do  not 
fly,  he  might  have  wrangled  for  his  rations  of  ten-penny 
nails  and  leather,  established  perennial  indigestion  in 
literature,  and  furnished  plumes  to  jackdaws.  But  he 
flew  closest  to  the  sun,  and  competed  with  the  dawn  for 
a  first  taste  of  its  sweet  and  fresh  impartiality. 

Weiss:   Wif,  Humor,  and  Shakspeare, 

VII. 

Theseus. 

The  central  figure  of  the  play  is  that  of  Theseus. 
There  is  no  figure  in  the  early  drama  of  Shakspere  so 
magnificent.  His  are  the  large  hands  that  have  helped 
to  shape  the  world.  His  utterance  is  the  rich-toned 
speech  of  one  who  is  master  of  events — who  has  never 

17 


Comments  A  MIDSUMMER^ 

known  a  shrill  or  eager  feeling.  His  nuptial  day  is  at 
hand;  and  while  the  other  lovers  are  agitated,  bewil- 
dered, incensed,  Theseus,  who  does  not  think  of  himself 
as  a  lover,  but  rather  as  a  beneficent  conqueror,  remains 
in  calm  possession  of  his  joy.  Theseus,  a  grand  ideal 
figure,  is  to  be  studied  as  Shakspere's  conception  of  the 
heroic  man  of  action  in  his  hour  of  enjoyment  and  of 
leisure.  With  a  splendid  capacity  for  enjoyment,  gracious 
to  all,  ennobled  by  the  glory,  implied  rather  than  ex- 
plicit, of  great  foregone  achievement,  he  stands  as  centre 
of  the  poem,  giving  their  true  proportions  to  the  fairy 
tribe,  upon  the  one  hand,  and,  upon  the  other,  to  the 
''  human  mortals."  The  heroic  men  of  action — Theseus, 
Henry  V.,  Hector — are  supremely  admired  by  Shak- 
spere.  Yet  it  is  observable  that  as  the  total  Shakspere 
is  superior  to  Romeo,  the  man  given  over  to  passion,  and 
to  Hamlet,  the  man  given  over  to  thought,  so  the  Ham- 
let and  the  Romeo  within  him  give  Shakspere  an  in- 
finite advantage  over  even  the  most  heroic  men  of 
action.  He  admires  these  men  of  action  supremely,  but 
he  admires  them  from  an  outside  point  of  view.  *'  These 
fellows  of  infinite  tongue,"  says  Henry,  wooing  the 
French  princess,  "  that  can  rhyme  themselves  into  ladies' 
favours,  they  do  always  reason  themselves  out  again. 
What!  a  speaker  is  but  a  prater,  a  rhyme  is  but  a  ballad." 
It  is  into  Theseus'  mouth  that  Shakspere  puts  the  words 
which  class  together  "  the  lunatic,  the  lover,  and  the 
poet "  as  of  imagination  all  compact.  That  is  the  touch 
which  shows  how  Shakspere  stood  off  from  Theseus,  did 
not  identify  himself  with  this  grand  ideal  (which  he  ad- 
mired so  truly),  and  admitted  to  himself  a  secret  supe- 
riority of  his  own  soul  over  that  of  this  noble  master  of 
the  world. 

Comments  by  Shakspere  upon  his  own  art  are  not  so 
numerous  that  we  can  afford  to  overlook  them.  It  must 
here  be  noted  that  Shakspere  makes  the  **  palpable 
gross  "  interlude  of  the  Athenian  mechanicals  serve  as 
an  indirect  apology   for  his   own  necessarily  imperfect 

i8 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Comments 

attempt  to  represent  fairy-land  and  the  majestic  world 
of  heroic  life.  Maginn  (SJiakspeare  Papers,  p.  119) 
writes:  "  When  Hippolyta  speaks  scornfully  of  the  trag- 
edy in  which  Bottom  holds  so  conspicuous  a  part, 
Theseus  answers  that  the  best  of  this  kind  [scenic  per- 
formances] are  but  shadows,  and  the  worst  no  worse  if 
imagination  amend  them.  She  answers  [for  Hippolyta 
has  none  of  Theseus'  indulgence  towards  inefftciency, 
but  rather  a  woman's  intolerance  of  the  absurd]  that  it 
must  be  your  imagination  then,  not  theirs.  He  retorts 
with  a  joke  on  the  vanity  of  actors,  and  the  conversation 
is  immediately  changed.  The  meaning  of  the  Duke  is 
that,  however  we  may  laugh  at  the  silliness  of  Bottom 
and  his  companions  in  their  ridiculous  play,  the  author 
labours  under  no  more  than  the  common  calamity  of 
dramatists.  They  are  all  but  dealers  in  shadowy  repre- 
sentations of  life;  and  if  the  worst  among  them  can  set 
the  mind  of  the  spectator  at  work,  he  is  equal  to  the 
best." 

Maginn  has  missed  the  more  important  significance  of 
the  passage.  Its  dramatic  appropriateness  is  the  essen- 
tial point  to  observe.  To  Theseus,  the  great  man  of 
action,  the  worst  and  the  best  of  these  shadowy  repre- 
sentations are  all  one.  He  graciously  lends  himself  to 
be  amused,  and  will  not  give  unmannerly  rebufif  to  the 
painstaking  craftsmen  who  have  so  laboriously  done 
their  best  to  please  him.  But  Shakspere's  mind  by  no 
means  goes  along  with  the  utterance  of  Theseus  in  this 
instance  any  more  than  when  he  places  in  a  single  group 
the  lover,  the  lunatic,  and  the  poet.  With  one  principle 
enounced  by  the  Duke,  however,  Shakspere  evidently 
does  agree — namely,  that  it  is  the  business  of  the  drama- 
tist to  set  the  spectator's  imagination  to  work;  that  the 
dramatist  must  rather  appeal  to  the  mind's  eye  than  to 
the  eye  of  sense;  and  that  the  co-operation  of  the  spec- 
tator with  the  poet  is  necessary.  For  the  method  of 
Bottom  and  his  company  is  precisely  the  reverse,  as 
Gervinus   has   observed,   of   Shakspere's   own   method. 

19 


Comments  A  MIDSUMMER^ 

They  are  determined  to  leave  nothing  to  be  suppHed  by 
the  imagination.  Wall  must  be  plastered;  Moonshine 
must  carry  lantern  and  bush.  And  when  Hippolyta, 
again  becoming  impatient  of  absurdity,  exclaims,  ''  I  am 
aweary  of  this  moon!  would  he  would  change!  "  Shak- 
spere  further  insists  on  his  piece  of  dramatic  criticism  by 
urging,  through  the  Duke's  mouth,  the  absolute  neces- 
sity of  the  man  in  the  moon  being  zvithin  his  lantern. 
Shakspere  as  much  as  says,  ''  If  you  do  not  approve 
my  dramatic  method  of  presenting  fairy-land  and  the 
heroic  world,  here  is  a  specimen  of  the  rival  method. 
You  think  my  fairy-world  might  be  amended.  Well, 
amend  it  with  your  own  imagination.  I  can  do  no  more 
unless  I  adopt  the  artistic  ideas  of  these  Athenian  handi- 
craftsmen." 

It  is  a  delightful  example  of  Shakspere's  impartiality 
that  he  can  represent  Theseus  with  so  much  genuine 
enthusiasm.  Mr.  Matthew  Arnold  has  named  our  aris- 
tocrats, with  their  hardy,  efficient  manners,  their  addic- 
tion to  field  sports,  and  their  hatred  of  ideas,  "  the  Bar- 
barians." Theseus  is  a  splendid  and  gracious  aristocrat, 
perhaps  not  without  a  touch  of  the  Barbarian  in  him. 
He  would  have  found  Hamlet  a  wholly  unintelligible 
person,  who,  in  possession  of  his  own  thoughts,  could  be 

contented  in  a  nutshell.  .^^  o?    z    ^ 

Dowden:  Shakspere. 

VIII. 

Appreciations  of  the  Play. 

We  have  here  an  element  of  aristocratic  distinction  in 
the  princely  couple,  Theseus  and  Hippolyta,  and  their 
court.  We  have  here  an  element  of  sprightly  burlesque 
in  the  artisans'  performance  of  Pyramus  and  Thisbe, 
treated  with  genial  irony  and  divinely  felicitous  humour. 
And  here,  finally,  we  have  the  element  of  supernatural 
poetry,  which  soon  after  flashes  forth  again  in  Romeo  and 
Juliet,  where  Mercutio  describes  the  doings  of  Queen 

20 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Comments 

Mab.  Puck  and  Pease-blossom,  Cobweb  and  Mustard- 
seed — pigmies  who  hunt  the  worms  in  a  rosebud,  tease 
bats,  chase  spiders,  and  lord  it  over  nightingales — are 
the  leading  actors  in  an  elfin  play,  a  fairy  carnival  of 
inimitable  mirth  and  melody,  steeped  in  a  midsummer 
atmosphere  of  mist-wreaths  and  flower-scents,  under  the 
afterglow  that  lingers  through  the  sultry  night.  This 
miracle  of  happy  inspiration  contains  the  germs  of  in- 
numerable romantic  achievements  in  England,  Ger- 
many, and  Denmark,  more  than  two  centuries  later. 

Brandes  :  William  Shakespeare. 


Of  all  his  works,  the  Midsummer-Nighfs  Dream  leaves 
the  strongest  impression  on  my  mind,  that  this  miser- 
able world  must  have,  for  once  at  least,  contained  a 
happy  man.  This  play  is  so  purely  deUcious,  so  httle 
intermixed  with  the  painful  passions  from  which  poetry 
distils  her  sterner  sweets,  so  fragrant  with  hilarity,  so 
bland  and  yet  so  bold,  that  I  cannot  imagine  Shak- 
speare's  mind  to  have  been  in  any  other  frame  than  that 
of  healthful  ecstasy  when  the  sparks  of  inspiration 
thrilled  through  his  brain  in  composing  it. 

Campbell. 

Shakespeare's  joy  in  the  possession  of  the  poetic  gift, 
and  his  earliest  delight  in  life,  found  radiant  expression 
in  A  Midsummer-Nighfs  Dream,  a  masterpiece  of  poetic 
fancy,  and  the  gayest  and  most  beautiful  of  poetic  com- 
edies. Rich  as  this  drama  is  in  humorous  effects,  it  is 
so  essentially  lyrical  in  spirit  that  it  stands  alone  in  Eng- 
lish poetry;  an  exquisite  expansion  of  the  masque  or 
festival  poem  into  a  drama  of  pure  fancy  and  daring 
imagination. 
Mabie  ;  William  Shakespeare  :  Poet,  Dramatist,  and  Man. 


The  Midsnmmer-Nighf s  Dream  is  especially  remark- 
able for  its  beauty  as  a  composition.  The  theme  through- 
out is  treated  with  care  as  well  as  felicity.    In  structure, 


22 


Comments 

in  diction,  in  characterisation,  and  poetical  elegance,  it 
is,  we  may  boldly  say,  faultless.  Nor  is  it  less  fitted  for 
the  stage  than  for  the  closet.  However  it  may  be  acted, 
whether  as  a  ballet  with  a  favourite  cantatrice  in  the 
part  of  Oberon,  or  otherwise  as  a  Scandinavian  legend 
with  the  faery  monarch  properly  bearded,  its  histrionic 
representation  is  always  charming.  Its  execution  is  as 
exquisite  as  its  conception  is  dehcate. 
Heraud  :  Shakspere,  His  Inner  Life  as  Intimated  in  His 
Works. 

It  is  astonishing  that  Shakespear  should  be  consid- 
ered, not  only  by  foreigners,  but  by  many  of  our  own 
critics,  as  a  gloomy  and  heavy  writer,  who  painted 
nothing  but  "  gorgons  and  hydras,  and  chimaeras  dire." 
His  subtlety  exceeds  that  of  all  other  dramatic  writers, 
insomuch  that  a  celebrated  person  of  the  present  day 
said  that  he  regarded  him  rather  as  a  metaphysician 
than  a  poet.  In  the  Midsummer-Nighfs  Dream  alone, 
we  should  imagine,  there  is  more  sweetness  and  beauty 
of  description  than  in  the  whole  range  of  French  poetry 
put  together.  What  we  mean  is  this,  that  we  will  pro- 
duce out  of  that  single  play  ten  passages  to  which  we 
do  not  think  any  ten  passages  in  the  works  of  the 
French  poets  can  be  opposed  displaying  equal  fancy 
and  imagery.  Shall  we  mention  the  remonstrance  of 
Helena  to  Hermia,  or  Titania's  description  of  her  fairy 
train,  or  her  disputes  with  Oberon  about  the  Indian  boy, 
or  Puck's  account  of  himself  and  his  employments,  or 
the  Fairy  Queen's  exhortation  to  the  elves  to  pay  due 
attendance  upon  her  favourite,  Bottom;  or  Hippolyta's 
description  of  a  chase,  or  Theseus'  answer?  The  two 
last  are  as  heroical  and  spirited  as  the  others  are  full  of 
luscious  tenderness.  The  reading  of  the  play  is  like 
wandering  in  a  grove  by  moonlight;  the  descriptions 
breathe  a  sweetness  like  odours  thrown  from  beds  of 
flowers. 

Hazlitt:  Characters  of  Shakespear' s  Plays, 

22 


A  Midsummer=Nighl  s  Dream, 


DRAMATIS   PERSONAE. 


Theseus,  Duke  of  Athens. 

Egeus,  father  to  Hermia. 

Lysander, 

in  love  with  Hermia. 


A 


Demetrius, 

Philostrate,  master  of  the  revels  to  Theseus. 

Quince,  a  carpenter. 

Snug,  a  joiner. 

Bottom,  a  weaver. 

Flute,  a  bellows-mender. 

Snout,  a  tinker. 

Starveling,  a  tailor. 

HippoLYTA,  queen  of  the  Amazons,  betrothed  to  Theseus. 
Hermia,  daughter  to  Egeus,  in  love  with  Lysander. 
Helena,  in  love  with  Demetrius. 

Oberon,  king  of  the  fairies. 

TiTANiA,  queen  of  the  fairies. 

Puck,  or  Robin  Goodfellow. 

Peaseblossom, 

Cobweb, 

Moth, 

mustardseed, 


fairies. 


Other  fairies  attending  their  King  and   Queen.     Attendants  on 
Theseus  and  Hippolyta. 

Scene:  Athens,  and  a  wood  near  it. 


Z4 


A  Midsummer=Night  s  Dream. 

ACT  FIRST. 
Scene  I. 

Athens.     The  palace  of  Theseus. 
Enter  Theseus,  Hippolyta,  Philostrate,  and  attendants. 

The.  Now,  fair  Hippolyta,  our  nuptial  hour 

Draws  on  apace ;   four  happy  days  bring  in 
Another  moon :   but,  O,  methinks,  how  slow 
This  old  moon  wanes !   she  lingers  my  desires, 
Like  to  a  step-dame,  or  a  dowager. 
Long  withering  out  a  young  man's  revenue. 

Hip.  Four  days  will  quickly  steep  themselves  in  night, 
Four  nights  will  quickly  dream  away  the  time; 
And  then  the  moon,  like  to  a  silver  bow 
New-bent  in  heaven,  shall  behold  the  night  lo 

Of  our  solemnities. 

The.  Go,  Philostrate, 

Stir  up  the  Athenian  youth  to  merriments; 
Awake  the  pert  and  nimble  spirit  of  mirth : 
Turn  melancholy  forth  to  funerals ; 
The  pale  companion  is  not  for  our  pomp. 

[Exit  Philostrate. 
Hippolyta,  I  woo'd  thee  with  my  sword. 
And  won  thy  love,  doing  thee  injuries ; 
But  I  will  wed  thee  in  another  key, 
With  pomp,  with  triumph  and  with  revelling. 

25 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

Enter  Egeus,  Hermia,  Lysander,  and  Demetrius. 

Ege.  Happy  be  Theseus,  our  renowned  duke !  20 

The.  Thanks,  good  Egeus  :  what 's  the  news  with  thee  ? 

Ege.  Full  of  vexation  come  I,  with  complaint 
Against  my  child,  my  daughter  Hermia. 
Stand  forth,  Demetrius.  My  noble  lord. 
This  mart  hath  my  consent  to  marry  her. 
Stand  forth,  Lysander :  and,  my  gracious  duke, 
This  man  hath  bewitch'd  the  bosom  of  my  child : 
Thou,  thou,  Lysander,  thou  hast  given  her  rhymes. 
And  interchanged  love-tokens  with  my  child  : 
Thou  hast  by  moonlight  at  her  window  sung,  30 

With  feigning  voice,  verses  of  feigning  love ; 
And  stolen  the  impression  of  her  fantasy 
With  bracelets  of  thy  hair,  rings,  gawds,  conceits, 
Knacks,  trifles,  nosegays,  sweetmeats,  messengers 
Of  strong  prevailment  in  unharden'd  youth  : 
With    cunning    hast    thou    filch'd    my    daughter's 

heart; 
Turn'd  her  obedience,  which  is  due  to  me, 
To  stubborn  harshness:   and,  my  gracious  duke, 
Be  it  so  she  will  not  here  before  your  Grace 
Consent  to  marry  with  Demetrius,  40 

I  beg  the  ancient  privilege  of  Athens, 
As  she  is  mine,  I  may  dispose  of  her : 
Which  shall  be  either  to  this  gentleman 
Or  to  her  death,  according  to  our  law 
Immediately  provided  in  that  case. 

The.  W^hat  say  you,  Hermia  ?   be  advised,  fair  maid : 
To  you  your  father  should  be  as  a  god ; 
One  that  composed  your  beauties ;  yea,  and  one 
To  whom  you  are  but  as  a  form  in  wax 

26 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

By  him  imprinted  and  within  his  power  50 

To  leave  the  figure  or  disfigure  it. 

Demetrius  is  a  worthy  gentleman. 
Her.  So  is  Lysander. 
The.  In  himself  he  is; 

But  in  this  kind,  wanting  your  father's  voice, 

The  other  must  be  held  the  worthier. 
Her.  I  would  my  father  look'd  but  with  my  eyes. 
The.  Rather  your  eyes  must  with  his  judgement  look. 
Her.  I  do  entreat  your  Grace  to  pardon  me. 

I  know  not  by  what  power  I  am  made  bold. 

Nor  how  it  may  concern  my  modesty,  60 

In  such  a  presence  here  to  plead  my  thoughts; 

But  I  beseech  your  Grace  that  I  may  know 

The  worst  that  may  befall  me  in  this  case, 

If  I  refuse  to  wed  Demetrius. 
The.  Either  to  die  the  death,  or  to  abjure  , 

For  ever  the  society  of  men. 

Therefore,  fair  Hermia,  question  your  desires; 

Know  of  your  youth,  examine  well  your  blood, 

Whether,  if  you  yield  not  to  your  father's  choice, 

You  can  endure  the  livery  of  a  nun;  70 

For  aye  to  be  in  shady  cloister  mew'd. 

To  live  a  barren  sister  all  your  life. 

Chanting  faint  hymns  to  the  cold  fruitless  moon. 

Thrice-blessed  they  that  master  so  their  blood, 

To  undergo  such  maiden  pilgrimage; 

But  earthlier  happy  is  the  rose  distill'd, 

Than  that  which,  withering  on  the  virgin  thorn, 

Grows,  lives,  and  dies  in  single  blessedness. 
Her.  So  will  I  grow,  so  live,  so  die,  my  lord. 

Ere  I  will  yield  my  virgin  patent  up  80 

27 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

Unto  his  lordship,  whose  unwished  yoke 

My  soul  consents  not  to  give  sovereignty. 
The.  Take  time  to  pause;  and,  by  the  next  new  moon, — 

The  sealing-day  betwixt  my  love  and  me, 

For  everlasting  bond  of  fellowship, — 

Upon  that  day  either  prepare  to  die 

For  disobedience  to  your  father's  will, 

Or  else  to  wed  Demetrius,  as  he  would; 

Or  on  Diana's  altar  to  protest 

For  aye  austerity  and  single  life.  90 

Deni.  Relent,  sweet  Hermia :  and,  Lysander,  yield 

Thy  crazed  title  to  my  certain  right. 
Lys.  You  have  her  father's  love,  Demetrius; 

Let  me  have  Hermia's:  do  you  marry  him. 
Ege.  Scornful  Lysander!  true  he  hath  my  love, 

And  what  is  mine  my  love  shall  render  him. 

And  she  is  mine,  and  all  my  right  of  her 

I  do  estate  unto  Demetrius. 
Lys.  I  am,  my  lord,  as  well  derived  as  he. 

As  well  possess'd;  my  love  is  more  than  his;         loo 

My  fortunes  every  way  as  fairly  rank'd, 

If  not  with  vantage,  as  Demetrius'; 

And,  which  is  more  than  all  these  boasts  can  be, 

I  am  beloved  of  beauteous  Hermia: 

Why  should  not  I  then  prosecute  my  right? 

Demetrius,  I  '11  avouch  it  to  his  head. 

Made  love  to  Nedar's  daughter,  Helena, 

And  won  her  soul;  and  she,  sweet  lady,  dotes, 

Devoutly  dotes,  dotes  in  idolatry. 

Upon  this  spotted  and  inconstant  man.  no 

The.  I  must  confess  that  I  have  heard  so  much. 

And  with  Demetrius  thought  to  have  spoke  thereof; 

28 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

But,  being  over-full  of  self-affairs, 
My  mind  did  lose  it.     But,  Demetrius,  come; 
And  come,  Egeus;  you  shall  go  with  me, 
I  have  some  private  schooling  for  you  both. 
For  you,  fair  Hermia,  look  you  arm  yourself 
To  fit  your  fancies  to  your  father's  will; 
Or  else  the  law  of  Athens  yields  you  up,— 
Which  by  no  means  we  may  extenuate, —  120 

To  death,  or  to  a  vow  of  single  life. 
Come,  my  Hippolyta:   what  cheer,  my  love? 
Demetrius  and  Egeus,  go  along: 
I  must  employ  you  in  some  business 
Against  our  nuptial,  and  confer  with  you 
Of  something  nearly  that  concerns  yourselves. 
Ege.  With  duty  and  desire  we  follow  you. 

[Exeunt  all  hut  Lysander  and  Hermia. 
Lys.  How  now,  my  love!  why  is  your  cheek  so  pale? 

How  chance  the  roses  there  do  fade  so  fast? 
Her.  Belike  for  want  of  rain,  which  I  could  well  130 

Beteem  them  from  the  tempest  of  my  eyes. 
Lys.  Ay  me!   for  aught  that  I  could  ever  read, 
Could  ever  hear  by  tale  or  history. 
The  course  of  true  love  never  did  run  smooth; 
But,  either  it  was  different  in  blood, — 
Her.  O  cross!  too  high  to  be  enthrall'd  to  low. 
Lys.  Or  else  misgraffed  in  respect  of  years,— 
Her.  O  spite!  too  old  to  be  engaged  to  young. 
Lys.  Or  else  it  stood  upon  the  choice  of  friends,— 
Her.  O  hell!  to  choose  love  by  another's  eyes.  140 

Lys.  Or,  if  there  were  a  sympathy  in  choice,  ^ 
War,  death,  or  sickness  did  lay  siege  to  it, 
Making  it  momentany  as  a  sound, 
29 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

Swift  as  a  shadow,  short  as  any  dream; 
Brief  as  the  lightning  in  the  collied  night, 
That,  in  a  spleen,  unfolds  both  heaven  and  earth, 
And  ere  a  man  hath  power  to  say  '  Behold ! ' 
The  jaws  of  darkness  do  devour  it  up: 
So  quick  bright  things  come  to  confusion. 

Her.  If  then  true  lovers  have  been  ever  cross'd,  150 

It  stands  as  an  edict  in  destiny: 
Then  let  us  teach  our  trial  patience, 
Because  it  is  a  customary  cross, 
As  due  to  love  as  thoughts  and  dreams  and  sighs, 
Wishes  and  tears,  poor  fancy's  followers. 

Lys.  A  good  persuasion:   therefore,  hear  me,  Hermla. 
I  have  a  widow  aunt,  a  dowager 
Of  great  revenue,  and  she  hath  no  child : 
From  Athens  is  her  house  remote  seven  leagues; 
And  she  respects  me  as  her  only  son.  160 

There,  gentle  Hermia,  may  I  marry  thee; 
And  to  that  place  the  sharp  Athenian  law 
Cannot  pursue  us.    If  thou  lovest  me,  then. 
Steal  forth  thy  father's  house  to-morrow  night ; 
And  in  the  wood,  a  league  without  the  town. 
Where  I  did  meet  thee  once  with  Helena, 
To  do  observance  to  a  morn  of  May, 
There  will  I  stay  for  thee. 

Her.  My  good  Lysander! 

I  swear  to  thee,  by  Cupid's  strongest  bow. 
By  his  best  arrow  with  the  golden  head,  170 

By  the  simplicity  of  Venus'  doves. 
By  that  which  knitteth  souls  and  prospers  loves. 
And  by  that  fire  which  burn'd  the  Carthage  queen, 
When  the  false  Troyan  under  sail  was  seen, 

30 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

By  all  the  vows  that  ever  men  have  broke, 
In  number  more  than  ever  women  spoke, 
In  that  same  place  thou  hast  appointed  me, 
To-morrow  truly  w411  I  meet  with  thee. 
Lys.  Keep  promise,  love.     Look,  here  comes  Helena. 

Enter  Helena. 

Her.  God  speed  fair  Helena!  whither  away?  i8o 

Hel.  Call  you  me  fair  ?  that  fair  again  unsay. 
Demetrius  loves  your  fair:    O  happy  fair! 
Your  eyes  are  lode-stars;   and  your  tongue's  sweet 

air 
More  tuneable  than  lark  to  shepherd's  ear, 
When  wheat  is  green,  when  hawthorn  buds  appear. 
Sickness  is  catching:   O,  were  favour  so, 
Yours  would  I  catch,  fair  Hermia,  ere  I  go  ; 
My  ear  should  catch  your  voice,  my  eye  your  eye, 
My  tongue  should  catch  your  tongue's  sweet  melody. 
Were  the  world  mine,  Demetrius  being  bated,     190 
The  rest  I  'Id  give  to  be  to  you  translated. 
O,  teach  me  how  you  look;  and  with  what  art 
You  sway  the  motion  of  Demetrius'  heart! 

Her.  I  frown  upon  him,  yet  he  loves  me  still. 

Hel.  O  that  your  frowns  would  teach  my  smiles  such 
skill! 

Her.  I  give  him  curses,  yet  he  gives  me  love. 

Hel.  O  that  my  prayers  could  such  affection  move ! 

Her.  The  more  I  hate,  the  more  he  follows  me. 

Hel.  The  more  I  love,  the  more  he  hateth  me. 

Her.  His  folly,  Helena,  is  no  fault  of  mine.  200 

Hel.  None,  but  your  beauty:  would  that  fault  were  mine! 

Her.  Take  comfort:  he  no  more  shall  see  my  face; 
Lysander  and  myself  will  fly  this  place. 
Before  the  time  I  did  Lysander  see, 

31 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

Seem'd  Athens  as  a  paradise  to  me: 

O,  then,  what  graces  in  my  love  do  dwell, 

That  he  hath  turn'd  a  heaven  unto  a  hell! 

Lys.  Helen,  to  you  our  minds  we  will  unfold: 

To-morrow  night,  when  Phoebe  doth  behold 
Her  silver  visage  in  the  watery  glass,  210 

Decking  with  liquid  pearl  the  bladed  grass, 
A  time  that  lovers'  flights  doth  still  conceal. 
Through  Athens'  gates  have  we  devised  to  steal. 

Her.  And  in  the  wood,  where  often  you  and  I 
Upon  faint  primrose-beds  were  wont  to  lie, 
Emptying  our  bosoms  of  their  counsel  sweet, 
There  my  Lysander  and  myself  shall  meet; 
And  thence  from  Athens  turn  away  our  eyes, 
To  seek  new  friends  and  stranger  companies. 
Farewell,  sweet  playfellow:  pray  thou  for  us;       220 
And  good  luck  grant  thee  thy  Demetrius! 
Keep  word,  Lysander :  we  must  starve  our  sight 
From  lovers'  food  till  morrow  deep  midnight. 

Lys.  I  will,  my  Hermia.  {Exit  Herm, 

Helena,  adieu: 
As  you  on  him,  Demetrius  dote  on  you!  [Exit. 

HeL  How  happy  some  o'er  other  some  can  be! 
Through  Athens  I  am  thought  as  fair  as  she. 
But  what  of  that?     Demetrius  thinks  not  so; 
He  will  not  know  what  all  but  he  do  know: 
And  as  he  errs,  doting  on  Hermia's  eyes,  230 

So  I,  admiring  of  his  qualities: 
Things  base  and  vile,  holding  no  quantity^v 
Love  can  transpose  to  form  and  dignity: 
Love  looks  not  with  the  eyes,  but  with  the  mind; 
And  therefore  is  wing'd  Cupid  painted  blind: 
32 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

Nor  hath  Love's  mind  of  any  judgement  taste ; 

Wings,  and  no  eyes,  figure  unheedy  haste : 

And  therefore  is  Love  said  to  be  a  child, 

Because  in  choice  he  is  so  oft  beguiled. 

As  waggish  boys  in  game  themselves  forswear,     240 

So  the  boy  Love  is  perjured  everywhere: 

For  ere  Demetrius  look'd  on  Hermia's  eyne, 

He  hail'd  down  oaths  that  he  was  only  mine ; 

And  when  this  hail  some  heat  from  Hermia  felt. 

So  he  dissolved,  and  showers  of  oaths  did  melt. 

I  will  go  tell  him  of  fair  Hermia's  flight : 

Then  to  the  wood  will  he  to-morrow  night 

Pursue  her ;   and  for  this  intelligence 

If  I  have  thanks,  it  is  a  dear  expense : 

But  herein  mean  I  to  enrich  my  pain,  250 

To  have  his  sight  thither  and  back  again.  [Exit 

Scene  IL 

The  same.     Quince's  house. 

Enter  Quince,  Snug,  Bottom,  Flute,  Snout,  and  . 
Starveling. 

Quin.  Is  all  our  company  here  ? 

Bot.  You  were  best  to  call  them  generally,  man  by 

man,  according  to  the  scrip. 
Quin.  Here  is  the  scroll  of  every  man's  name,  which 

is  thought  fit,  through  all  Athens,  to  play  in  our 

interlude  before  the  duke  and  the  duchess,  on 

his  wedding-day  at  night. 
Bot.  First,  good  Peter  Quince,   say  what  the  play 

treats  on  ;   then  read  the  names  of  the  actors ; 

and  so  grow. to  a  point.  10 

2Z 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  A  MIDSUMMER' 

Quin.  Marry,  our  play  is,  The  most  lamentable 
comedy,  and  most  cruel  death  of  Pyramus  and 
Thisby. 

Bot.  A  very  good  piece  of  work,  I  assure  you,  and 
a  merry.  Now,  good  Peter  Quince,  call  forth 
your  actors  by  the  scroll.  Masters,  spread  your- 
selves. 

Quin.  Answer   as    I    call   you.     Nick    Bottom,    the 

weaver. 
Bot.  Ready.     Name  what  part  I  am  for,  and  proceed.     20 
Quin.    You,  Nick  Bottom,  are  set  down  for  Pyramus. 
Bot.  What  is  Pyramus  ?  a  lover,  or  a  tyrant  ? 
Quin.  A  lover,  that  kills  himself  most  gallant  for  love. 
Bot,  That  will  ask  some  tears  in  the  true  performing 
of  it :    if  I  do  it,  let  the  audience  look  to  their 
eyes ;  I  will  move  storms,  I  will  condole  in  some 
measure.     To  the  rest :   yet  my  chief  humour  is 
for  a  tyrant :  I  could  play  Ercles  rarely,  or  a  part 
to  tear  a  cat  in,  to  make  all  split. 

The  raging  rocks  30 

And  shivering  shocks 
Shall  break  the  locks 

Of  prison-gates; 
And  Phibbus'  car 
Shall  shine  from  far, 
And  make  and  mar 
The  foolish  Fates. 
This    was    lofty !     Now  name    the  rest  of  the 
players.     This  is  Ercles'  vein,  a  tyrant's  vein ;  a 
lover  is  more  condoling.  40 

Quin.  Francis  Flute,  the  bellows-mender.  . 
Flu.  Here,  Peter  Quince. 

34 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

Quin.  Flute,  you  must  take  Thisby  on  you. 

Flu.  What  is  Thisby  ?  a  wandering  knight. 

Quijt.    It  is  the  lady  that  Pyramus  must  love. 

Fhi.    Nay,  faith,  let  not  me  play  a  woman ;   I  have  a 

beard  coming. 
Quin.  That 's  all  one :    you  shall  play  it  in  a  mask, 

and  you  may  speak  as  small  as  you  will. 
Bot.  An  I  may  hide  my  face,  let  me  play  Thisby  too,     50 

I  '11  speak  in  a  monstrous  little  voice,  '  Thisne, 

Thisne;'   *Ah   Pyramus,   my   lover   dear!    thy 

Thisby  dear,  and  lady  dear! ' 
Quin.  No,  no;  you  must  play  Pyramus:  and.  Flute, 

you  Thisby. 
Bot.  Well,  proceed. 
Quin.  Robin  Starveling,  the  tailor. 
Star.  Here,  Peter  Quince. 
Quin.  Robin   Starveling,   you    must   play   Thisby*s 

mother.     Tom  Snout,  the  tinker.  60 

Snout.  Here,  Peter  Quince. 
Quin.  You,     Pyramus'     father:      myself,     Thisby's 

father:    Snug,  the  joiner;   you,  the  lion's  part: 

and,  I  hope,  here  is  a  play  fitted. 
Snug.  Have  you  the  lion's  part  written?  pray  you,  if 

it  be,  give  it  me,  for  I  am  slow  of  study. 
Quin.  You  may  do  it  extempore,  for  it  is  nothing  but 

roaring. 
Bot.  Let  me  play  the  lion  too :  I  will  roar,  that  I  will 

do  any  man's  heart  good  to  hear  me ;  I  will  roar,     70 

that  I  will  make  the  duke  say,  '  Let  him  roar 

again,  let  him  roar  again.' 
Quin.  An    you    should    do    it    too    terribly,    you 

would  fright  the  duchess  and  the  ladies,  that 

35 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

they  would  shriek;    and  that  were  enough  to 
hang  us  all. 

All.  That  would  hang  us,  every  mother's  son. 

Bot.  I  grant  you,  friends,  if  you  should  fright  the 
ladies  out  of  their  wits,  they  would  have  no 
more  discretion  but  to  hang  us:  but  I  will  80 
aggravate  my  voice  so,  that  I  will  roar  you  as 
gently  as  any  sucking  dove;  I  will  roar  you  an 
'twere  any  nightingale. 

Quin.  You  can  play  no  part  but  Pyramus;  for 
Pyramus  is  a  sweet-faced  man ;  a  proper  man, 
as  one  shall  see  in  a  summer's  day;  a  most 
lovely,  gentleman-like  man:  therefore  you  must 
needs  play  Pyramus. 

Bot.  Well,  I  will  undertake  it.     What  beard  were  I 

best  to  play  it  in?  90 

Quin.  Why,  what  you  will. 

Bot.  I  will  discharge  it  in  either  your  straw  colour 
beard,  your  orange-tawny  beard,  your  purple- 
in-grain  beard,  or  your  French  crown  colour 
beard,  your  perfect  yellow. 

Quin.  Some  of  your  French  crowns  have  no  hair  at 
all,  and  then  you  will  play  barefaced.  But, 
masters,  here  are  your  parts:  and  I  am  to 
entreat  you,  request  you,  and  desire  you,  to  con 
them  by  to-morrow  night ;  and  meet  me  in  the  100 
palace  wood,  a  mile  without  the  town,  by  moon- 
light ;  there  will  we  rehearse,  for  if  we  meet  in 
the  city,  we  shall  be  dogged  with  company,  and 
our  devices  known.  In  the  mean  time  I  will 
draw  a  bill  of  properties,  such  as  our  play  wants. 
I  pray  you,  fail  me  not. 

36 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

Bot.  We  will  meet ;  and  there  we  may  rehearse  most 
obscenely  and   courageously.     Take  pains ;    be 
perfect:    adieu. 
Qiiiii.  At  the  duke's  oak  we  meet.  no 

Bot.  Enough ;  hold  or  cut  bow-strings.  [Exeunt. 

ACT   SECOND. 
Scene  I. 

A  wood  near  Athens. 
Enter,  from  opposite  sides,  a  Fairy,  and  Puck. 

Puck.  How  now,  spirit!   whither  wander  you? 
Fai.  Over  hill,  over  dale, 

Thorough  bush,  thorough  brier, 
Over  park,  over  pale. 

Thorough  flood,  thorough  fire, 
I  do  wander  every  where. 
Swifter  than  the  moon's  sphere ; 
And  I  serve  the  fairy  queen, 
To  dew  her  orbs  upon  the  green. 
The  cowslips  tall  her  pensioners  be :  lo 

In  their  gold  coats  spots  you  see ; 
Those  be  rubies,  fairy  favours. 
In  those  freckles  live  their  savours : 
I  must  go  seek  some  dewdrops  here, 
And  hang  a  pearl  in  every  cowslip's  ear. 
Farewell,  thou  lob  of  spirits;  I  '11  be  gone: 
Our  queen  and  all  her  elves  come  here  anon. 
Puck.  The  king  doth  keep  his  revels  here  to-night: 
Take  heed  the  queen  come  not  within  his  sight; 
For  Oberon  is  passing  fell  and  wrath,  20 

37 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

Because  that  she  as  her  attendant  hath 

A  lovely  boy,  stolen  from  an  Indian  king ; 

She  never  had  so  sweet  a  changeling : 

And  jealous  Oberon  would  have  the  child 

Knight  of  his  train,  to  trace  the  forests  wild ; 

But  she  perforce  withholds  the  loved  boy, 

Crowns  him  with  flowers,  and  makes  him  all  her 

joy. 
And  now  they  never  meet  in  grove  or  green, 
By  fountain  clear,  or  spangled  starlight  sheen. 
But  they  do  square,  that  all  their  elves  for  fear     30 
Creep  into  acorn  cups  and  hide  them  there. 

Pal.  Either  I  mistake  your  shape  and  making  quite. 
Or  else  you  are  that  shrewd  and  knavish  sprite 
Call'd  Robin  Goodfellow:   are  not  you  he 
That  frights  the  maidens  of  the  villagery; 
Skim  milk,  and  sometimes  labour  in  the  quern, 
And  bootless  make  the  breathless  housewife  churn; 
And  sometime  make  the  drink  to  bear  no  barm, 
Mislead  night- wanderers,  laughing  at  their  harm? 
Those  that  Hobgoblin  call  you,  and  sweet  Puck,  40 
You    do    their    work,    and    they    shall    have    good 

luck: 
Are  not  you  he? 

Puck.  Thou  speak'st  aright; 

I  am  that  merry  wanderer  of  the  night. 
I  jest  to  Oberon,  and  make  him  smile. 
When  I  a  fat  and  bean-fed  horse  beguile, 
Neighing  in  likeness  of  a  filly  foal: 
And  sometime  lurk  I  in  a  gossip's  bowl, 
In  very  likeness  of  a  roasted  crab; 
And  when  she  drinks,  against  her  lips  I  bob 
And  on  her  withered  dewlap  pour  the  ale.  50 

The  wisest  aunt,  telling  the  saddest  tale, 

38 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

Sometime  for  three-foot  stool  mistaketh  me; 
Then  slip  I  from  her  bum,  down  topples  she, 
And  '  tailor  '  cries,  and  falls  into  a  cough; 
And  then  the  whole  quire  hold  their  hips  and  laugh ; 
And  waxen  in  their  mirth,  and  neeze,  and  swear 
A  merrier  hour  was  never  wasted  there. 
But,  room,  fairy?  here  comes  Oberon. 
Fai.  And  here  my  mistress.     Would  that  he  were  gone! 

Enter,  from  one  side,  Oberon,  zvith  his  train;   from  the 
other,  Titania,  with  hers. 

Obe.  Ill  met  by  moonhght,  proud  Titania.  60 

Tita.  What,  jealous  Oberon!     Fairies,  skip  hence: 
I  have  forsworn  his  bed  and  company. 

Obe.  Tarry,  rash  wanton:   am  not  I  thy  lord? 

Tita.  Then  I  must  be  thy  lady:  but  I  know 

When  thou  hast  stolen  away  from  fairy  land, 

And  in  the  shape  of  Corin  sat  all  day, 

Playing  on  pipes  of  corn,  and  versing  love 

To  amorous  Phillida.     Why  art  thou  here, 

Come  from  the  farthest  steppe  of  India? 

But  that,  forsooth,  the  bouncing  Amazon,  70 

Your  buskin'd  mistress  and  your  warrior  love, 

To  Theseus  must  be  wedded,  and  you  come 

To  give  their  bed  joy  and  prosperity. 

Obe.  How  canst  thou  thus  for  shame,  Titania, 
Glance  at  my  credit  with  Hippolyta, 
Knowing  I  know  thy  love  to  Theseus  ? 
Didst  thou  not  lead  him  through  the  glimmering 

night 
From  Perigenia,  whom  he  ravished? 
And  make  him  with  fair  ^gle  break  his  faith, 
With  Ariadne  and  Antiopa  ?  80 

39 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

Tita.  These  are  the  forgeries  of  jealousy: 

And  never,  since  the  middle  summer's  spring, 

Met  we  on  hill,  in  dale,  forest,  or  mead. 

By  paved  fountain  or  by  rushy  brook. 

Or  in  the  beached  margent  of  the  sea. 

To  dance  our  ringlets  to  the  whistling  wind. 

But  with  thy  brawls  thou  hast  disturb'd  our  sport. 

Therefore  the  winds,  piping  to  us  in  vain, 

As  in  revenge,  have  suck'd  up  from  the  sea 

Contagious  fogs;   which,  falling  in  the  land,  90 

Have  every  pelting  river  made  so  proud, 

That  they  have  overborne  their  continents: 

The  ox  hath  therefore  stretch'd  his  yoke  in  vain, 

The    ploughman    lost    his    sweat;     and    the    green 

com 
Hath  rotted  ere  his  youth  attain'd  a  beard: 
The  fold  stands  empty  in  the  drowned  field, 
And  crows  are  fatted  with  the  murrion  flock; 
The  nine  men's  morris  is  fiU'd  up  with  mud; 
And  the  quaint  mazes  in  the  wanton  green. 
For  lack  of  tread,  are  undistinguishable:  100 

The  human  mortals  want  their  winter  here ; 
No  night  is  now  with  hymn  or  carol  blest : 
Therefore  the  moon,  the  governess  of  floods, 
Pale  in  her  anger,  washes  all  the  air. 
That  rheumatic  diseases  do  abound. 
And  thorough  this  distemperature  we  see 
The  seasons  alter :  hoary-headed  frosts 
Fall  in  the  fresh  lap  of  the  crimson  rose; 
And  on  old  Hiems'  thin  and  icy  crown 
An  odorous  chaplet  of  sweet  summer  buds  no 

Is,  as  in  mockery,  set :  the  spring,  the  summer, 
The  childing  autumn,  angry  winter,  change 
40 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

Their  wonted  liveries;  and  the  mazed  world, 

By  their  increase,  now  knows  not  which  is  which: 

And  this  same  progeny  of  evils  comes 

From  our  debate,  from  our  dissension; 

We  are  their  parents  and  original. 

Obe.  Do  you  amend  it,  then;  it  lies  in  you: 
Why  should  Titania  cross  her  Oberon? 
I  do  but  beg  a  little  changeling  boy,  I20 

To  be  my  henchman. 

Tita.  Set  your  heart  at  rest: 

The  fairy  land  buys  not  the  child  of  me. 
His  mother  was  a  votaress  of  my  order: 
And,  in  the  spiced  Indian  air,  by  night, 
Full  often  hath  she  gossip'd  by  my  side; 
And  sat  with  me  on  Neptune's  yellow  sands. 
Marking  the  embarked  traders  on  the  flood; 
When  we  have  laugh'd  to  see  the  sails  conceive 
And  grow  big-bellied  with  the  wanton  wind ; 
Which  she,  with  pretty  and  with  swimming  gait    130 
Following, — her  womb  then  rich  with  my  young 

squire, — 
Would  imitate,  and  sail  upon  the  land. 
To  fetch  me  trifles,  and  return  again. 
As  from  a  voyage,  rich  with  merchandise. 
But  she,  being  mortal,  of  that  boy  did  die; 
And  for  her  sake  do  I  rear  up  her  boy; 
And  for  her  sake  I  will  not  part  with  him. 

Obe.  How  long  within  this  wood  intend  you  stay? 

Tita.  Perchance  till  after  Theseus'  wedding-day. 

If  you  will  patiently  dance  in  our  round,  140 

And  see  our  moonlight  revels,  go  with  us ; 
If  not,  shun  me,  and  I  will  spare  your  haunts. 

41 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER^ 

Obe.  Give  me  that  boy,  and  I  will  go  with  thee. 

Tita.  Not  for  thy  fairy  kingdom.     Fairies,  away! 
We  shall  chide  downright,  if  I  longer  stay. 

[Exit  Titania  with  her  train. 

Obe.  Well,  go  thy  way:  thou  shalt  not  from  this  grove 
Till  I  torment  thee  for  this  injury. 
My  gentle  Puck,  come  hither.     Thou  rememberest 
Since  once  I  sat  upon  a  promontory, 
And  heard  a  mermaid,  on  a  dolphin's  back,  150 

Uttering  such  dulcet  and  harmonious  breath, 
That  the  rude  sea  grew  civil  at  her  song, 
And  certain  stars  shot  madly  from  their  spheres, 
To  hear  the  sea-maid's  music. 

Puck.  I  remember. 

Obe.  That  very  time  I  saw,  but  thou  couldst  not, 
Flying  between  the  cold  moon  and  the  earth, 
Cupid  all  arm'd:  a  certain  aim  he  took 
At  a  fair  vestal  throned  by  the  west, 
And  loosed  his  love-shaft  smartly  from  his  bow. 
As  it  should  pierce  a  hundred  thousand  hearts :      160 
But  I  might  see  young  Cupid's  fiery  shaft 
Quench'd  in  the  chaste  beams  of  the  w^atery  moon. 
And  the  imperial  votaress  passed  on, 
In  maiden  meditation,. fancy-free. 
Yet  mark'd  I  where  the  bolt  of  Cupid  fell: 
It  fell  upon  a  little  western  flower, 
Before  milk-white,  now  purple  with  love's  wound, 
And  maidens  call  it  love-in-idleness. 
Fetch  me  that  flower;  the  herb  I  shew'd  thee  once: 
The  juice  of  it  on  sleeping  eye-Hds  laid  170 

Will  make  or  man  or  woman  madly  dote 
Upon  the  next  live  creature  that  it  sees. 
42 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  IL  Sc.  i. 

Fetch  me  this  herb ;   and  be  thou  here  again 

Ere  the  leviathan  can  swim  a  league. 
Puck.  I  '11  put  a  girdle  round  about  the  earth 

In  forty  minutes.  [Exit. 

Obe,  Having  once  this  juice, 

I  '11  watch  Titan ia  when  she  is  asleep, 

And  drop  the  liquor  of  it  in  her  eyes. 

The  next  thing  then  she  waking  looks  upon, 

Be  it  on  lion,  bear,  or  wolf,  or  bull,  i8o 

On  meddling  monkey,  or  on  busy  ape, 

She  shall  pursue  it  with  the  soul  of  love : 

And  ere  I  take  this  charm  from  off  her  sight, 

As  I  can  take  it  with  another  herb, 

I  '11  make  her  render  up  her  page  to  me. 

But  who  comes  here?   I  am  invisible; 

And  I  will  overhear  their  conference. 

Enter  Demetrius,  Helena  following  him, 

Dem.  I  love  thee  not,  therefore  pursue  me  not. 
Where  is  Lysander  and  fair  Hermia  ? 
The  one  I  '11  slay,  the  other  slayeth  me.  190 

Thou  told'st  me  they  were  stolen  unto  this  wood  ; 
And  here  am  I,  and  w^ode  within  this  wood. 
Because  I  cannot  meet  my  Hermia. 
Hence,  get  thee  gone,  and  follow  me  no  more. 

Hel.  You  draw  me,  you  hard-hearted  adamant ; 
But  yet  you  draw  not  iron,  for  my  heart 
Is  true  as  steel :  leave  you  your  power  to  draw, 
And  I  shall  have  no  power  to  follow  you. 

Dem.  Do  I  entice  you?   do  I  speak  you  fair? 

Or,  rather,  do  I  not  in  plainest  truth  200 

Tell  you,  I  do  not  nor  I  cannot  love  you  ? 

43 


Acf  II.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

Hel.  And  even  for  that  do  I  love  you  the  more. 
I  am  your  spaniel ;   and,  Demetrius, 
The  more  you  beat  me,  I  will  fawn  on  you : 
Use  me  but  as  your  spaniel,  spurn  me,  strike  me, 
Neglect  me,  lose  me ;   only  give  me  leave, 
Unworthy  as  I  am,  to  follow  you. 
What  worser  place  can  I  beg  in  your  love, — 
And  yet  a  place  of  high  respect  with  me, — 
Than  to  be  used  as  you  use  your  dog?  210 

Deni.  Tempt  not  too  much  the  hatred  of  my  spirit ; 
For  I  am  sick  when  I  do  look  on  thee. 

Hel.  And  I  am  sick  when  I  look  not  on  you. 

Dem.  You  do  impeach  your  modesty  too  much, 
To  leave  the  city,  and  commit  yourself 
Into  the  hands  of  one  that  loves  you  not ; 
To  trust  the  opportunity  of  night 
And  the  ill  counsel  of  a  desert  place 
With  the  rich  worth  of  your  virginity. 

Hel,  Your  virtue  is  my  privilege :   for  that  220 

It  is  not  night  when  I  do  see  your  face. 
Therefore  I  think  I  am  not  in  the  night ; 
Nor  doth  this  wood  lack  worlds  of  company, 
For  you  in  my  respect  are  all  the  world : 
Then  how  can  it  be  said  I  am  alone, 
When  all  the  world  is  here  to  look  on  me  ? 

Dem.  I  '11  run  from  thee  and  hide  me  in  the  brakes, 
And  leave  thee  to  the  mercy  of  wild  beasts. 

Hel.  The  wildest  hath  not  such  a  heart  as  you. 

Run  when  you  will,  the  story  shall  be  changed :     230 
Apollo  flies,  and  Daphne  holds  the  chase ; 
The  dove  pursues  the  griffin ;  the  mild  hind 
Makes  speed  to  catch  the  tiger ;  bootless  speed, 

44 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

When  cowardice  pursues,  and  valour  flies. 
Dem.  I  will  not  stay  thy  questions ;  let  me  go : 

Or,  if  thou  follow  me,  do  not  believe 

But  I  shall  do  thee  mischief  in  the  wood. 
Hel.  Ay,  in  the  temple,  in  the  town,  the  field, 

You  do  me  mischief.    Fie,  Demetrius  ! 

Your  wrongs  do  set  a  scandal  on  my  sex :  240 

We  cannot  fight  for  love,  as  men  may  do ; 

We  should  be  woo'd,  and  were  not  made  to  woo. 

[Exit  Dem. 

I  '11  follow  thee,  and  make  a  heaven  of  hell. 

To  die  upon  the  hand  I  love  so  well.  [Exit. 

Obe.  Fare  thee  well,  nymph :  ere  he  do  leave  this  grove, 

Thou  shalt  fly  him,  and  he  shall  seek  thy  love. 

Re-enter  Puck. 

Hast  thou  the  flower  there?     Welcome,  wanderer. 

Puck.  Ay,  there  it  is. 

Obe.  I  pray  thee,  give  it  me. 

I  know  a  bank  where  the  wild  thyme  blows, 

Where  oxlips  and  the  nodding  violet  grows ;        250 

Quite  over-canopied  with  luscious  woodbine. 

With  sweet  musk-roses,  and  with  eglantine : 

There  sleeps  Titania  sometime  of  the  night, 

Lull'd  in  these  flowers  with  dances  and  delight; 

And  there  the  snake  throws  her  enamell'd  skin. 

Weed  wide  enough  to  wrap  a  fairy  in : 

And  with  the  juice  of  this  I  '11  streak  her  eyes. 

And  make  her  full  of  hateful  fantasies. 

Take  thou  some  of  it,  and  seek  through  this  grove : 

A  sweet  Athenian  lady  is  in  love  260 

With  a  disdainful  youth :   anoint  his  eyes ; 


Act  II.  Sc.  ii.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

But  do  it  when  the  next  thing  he  espies 
May  be  the  lady :    thou  shalt  know  the  man 
By  the  Athenian  garments  he  hath  on. 
Effect  it  with  some  care  that  he  may  prove 
More  fond  on  her  than  she  upon  her  love : 
And  look  thou  meet  me  ere  the  first  cock  crow. 
Puck.  Fear  not,  my  lord,  your  servant  shall  do  so. 

Y^xeunt, 

Scene  II. 

Another  part  of  the  wood. 

Enter  Titania,  zvith  her  train. 

Tita.  Come,  now  a  roundel  and  a  fairy  song; 
Then,  for  the  third  part  of  a  minute,  hence ; 
Some  to  kill  cankers  in  the  musk-rose  buds ; 
Some  war  with  rere-mice  for  their  leathern  wings, 
To  make  my  small  elves  coats  ;  and  some  keep  back 
The  clamorous  owl,  that  nightly  hoots  and  wonders 
At  our  quaint  spirits.     Sing  me  now  asleep ; 
Then  to  your  offices,  and  let  me  rest. 

Song. 

Fir.  Fairy.  You  spotted  snakes  with  double  tongue. 

Thorny  hedgehogs,  be  not  seen ;  lo 

Newts  and  blind-worms,  do  no  wrong, 
Come  not  near  our  fairy  queen. 

Chorus. 

Philomel,  with  melody 
Sing  in  our  sweet  lullaby ; 
Lulla,  lulla,  lullaby,  lulla,  luUa,  lullaby: 

Never  harm. 

Nor  spell,  nor  charm, 

46 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  II.  Sc.  ii. 

Come  our  lovely  lady  nigh  ; 
So,  good  night,  with  lullaby. 

Fir.  Fairy.  Weaving  spiders,  come  not  here ;  20 

Hence,  you  long-legg'd  spinners,  hence ! 
Beetles  black,  approach  not  near ; 
Worm  nor  snail,  do  no  offence. 

Chorus. 
Philomel,  with  melody,  &c. 
Sec.  Fairy.      Hence,  away !  now  all  is  well ; 
One  aloof  stand  sentinel. 

[Exeunt  Fairies.     Titania  sleeps. 

Enter  Oheron,  and  squeezes  the  Hozver  on  Titania's 
eyelids. 

Ohe.  What  thou  seest  when  thou  dost  wake, 

Do  it  for  thy  true-love  take ; 
Love  and  languish  for  his  sake: 
Be  it  ounce,  or  cat,  or  bear,  30 

Pard,  or  boar  with  bristled  hair. 
In  thy  eye  that  shall  appear 
When  thou  wakest,  it  is  thy  dear: 
Wake  when  some  vile  thing  is  near.        [Exit. 

Enter  Lysander  and  Hermia. 

Lys.  Fair  love,  you  faint  with  wandering  in  the  wood ; 
And  to  speak  troth,  I  have  forgot  our  way : 
We  '11  rest  us,  Hermia,  if  you  think  it  good, 
And  tarry  for  the  comfort  of  the  day. 
Her.  Be  it  so,  Lysander :  find  you  out  a  bed  ; 

For  I  upon  this  bank  will  rest  my  head.  40 

Lys.  One  turf  shall  serve  as  pillow  for  us  both ; 

One  heart,  one  bed,  two  bosoms,  and  one  troth. 

47 


Act  II.  Sc.  ii.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

Her.  Nay,  good  Lysander ;   for  my  sake,  my  dear, 
Lie  further  off  yet,  do  not  lie  so  near. 

Lys.  O,  take  the  sense,  sweet,  of  my  innocence ! 
Love  takes  the  meaning  in  love's  conference. 
I  mean,  that  my  heart  unto  yours  is  knit. 
So  that  but  one  heart  we  can  make  of  it : 
Two  bosoms  interchained  with  an  oath ; 
So  then  two  bosoms  and  a  single  troth.  50 

Then  by  your  side  no  bed-room  me  deny ; 
For  lying  so,  Hermia,  I  do  not  lie. 

Her.  Lysander  riddles  very  prettily: 

Now  much  beshrew  my  manners  and  my  pride. 

If  Hermia  meant  to  say  Lysander  lied. 

But,  gentle  friend,  for  love  and  courtesy 

Lie  further  off;   in  human  modesty, 

Such  separation  as  may  well  be  said 

Becomes  a  virtuous  bachelor  and  a  maid. 

So  far  be  distant ;  and,  good  night,  sweet  friend :     60 

Thy  love  ne'er  alter  till  thy  sweet  life  end ! 

Lys.  Amen,  amen,  to  that  fair  prayer,  say  I ; 
And  then  end  life  when  I  end  loyalty ! 
Here  is  my  bed :  sleep  give  thee  all  his  rest ! 

Her.  With  half  that  wish  the  wisher's  eyes  be  press' d ! 

[They  sleep. 

Enter  Puck. 

Puck.       Through  the  forest  have  I  gone. 
But  Athenian  found  I  none. 
On  whose  eyes  I  might  approve 
This  flower's  force  in  stirring  love. 
Night  and  silence. — Who  is  here?  70 

Weeds  of  Athens  he  doth  wear : 

48 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  II.  Sc.  ii. 

This  is  he,  my  master  said, 

Despised  the  Athenian  maid ; 

And  here  the  maiden,  sleeping  sound, 

On  the  dank  and  dirty  ground. 

Pretty  soul !   she  durst  not  lie 

Near  this  lack-love,  this  kill-courtesy. 

Churl,  upon  thy  eyes  I  throw 

All  the  power  this  charm  doth  owe. 

When  thou  wakest,  let  love  forbid  80 

Sleep  his  seat  on  thy  eyelid : 

So  awake  when  I  am  gone; 

For  I  must  now  to  Oberon.  [Exit. 

Enter  Demetrius  and  Helena,  running. 

Hel.  Stay,  though  thou  kill  me,  sweet  Demetrius. 

Dem.  I  charge  thee,  hence,  and  do  not  haunt  me  thus. 

Hel.  O,  wilt  thou  darkling  leave  me  ?  do  not  so. 

Dem.  Stay,  on  thy  peril :  I  alone  will  go.  {Exit. 

Hel.  O,  I  am  out  of  breath  in  this  fond  chase : 
The  more  my  prayer,  the  lesser  is  my  grace. 
Happy  is  Hermia,  wheresoe'er  she  lies ;  90 

For  she  hath  blessed  and  attractive  eyes. 
How  came  her  eyes  so  bright  ?     Not  with  salt  tears : 
If  so,  my  eyes  are  oftener  wash'd  than  hers. 
No,  no,  I  am  as  ugly  as  a  bear ; 
For  beasts  that  meet  me  run  away  for  fear: 
Therefore  no  marvel  though  Demetrius 
Do,  as  a  monster,  fly  my  presence  thus. 
What  wicked  and  dissembling  glass  of  mine 
Made  me  compare  with  Hermia's  sphery  eyne  ? 
But  who  is  here  ?     Lysander !  on  the  ground !       100 
Dead  ?  or  asleep  ?     I  see  no  blood,  no  wound. 

49 


Act  II.  Sc.  ii.  A  MIDSUMMER^ 

Lysander,  if  you  live,  good  sir,  awake. 

Lys,    [Awaking]   And   run   through   fire   I   will   for  thy 
sweet  sake. 
Transparent  Helena !     Nature  shews  art, 
That  through  thy  bosom  makes  me  see  thy  heart. 
Where  is  Demetrius?     O,  how  fit  a  word 
Is  that  vile  name  to  perish  on  my  sword ! 

HeL  Do  not  say  so,  Lysander ;   say  not  so. 

What  though    he    love  your  Hermia?     Lord,  what 

though  ? 
Yet  Hermia  still  loves  you  :  then  be  content.  no 

Lys.  Content  with  Hermia !     No ;  I  do  repent 
The  tedious  minutes  I  with  her  have  spent. 
Not  Hermia  but  Helena  I  love : 
Who  will  not  change  a  raven  for  a  dove  ? 
The  will  of  man  is  by  his  reason  sway'd 
And  reason  says  you  are  the  worthier  maid. 
Things  growing  are  not  ripe  until  their  season : 
So  I,  being  young,  till  now  ripe  not  to  reason ; 
And  touching  now  the  point  of  human  skill. 
Reason  becomes  the  marshal  to  my  will,  120 

And  leads  me  to  your  eyes  ;  where  I  o'erlook 
Love's  stories,  written  in  Love's  richest  book. 

Hel.  Wherefore  was  I  to  this  keen  mockery  born  ? 
When  at  your  hands  did  I  deserve  this  scorn? 
Is  't  not  enough,  is  't  not  enough,  young  man, 
That  I  did  never,  no,  nor  never  can. 
Deserve  a  sweet  look  from  Demetrius'  eye, 
But  you  must  flout  my  insufficiency? 
Good  troth,  you    do    me    wrong,  good    sooth,  you 

do, 
In  such  disdainful  manner  me  to  woo.  130 

50 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  II.  Sc.  ii. 

But  fare  you  well :  perforce  I  must  confess 

I  thought  you  lord  of  more  true  gentleness. 

O,  that  a  lady,  of  one  man  refused, 

Should  of  another  therefore  be  abused !  [Exit. 

Lys.  She  sees  not  Hermia.     Hermia,  sleep  thou  there : 

And  never  mayst  thou  come  Lysander  near ! 

For  as  a  surfeit  of  the  sweetest  things 

The  deepest  loathing  to  the  stomach  brings, 

Or  as  the  heresies  that  men  do  leave 

Are  hated  most  of  those  they  did  deceive,  140 

So  thou,  my  surfeit  and  my  heresy, 

Of  all  be  hated,  but  the  most  of  me ! 

And,  all  my  powers,  address  your  love  and  might 

To  honour  Helen  and  to  be  her  knight !  [Exit. 

Her.   [Azvaking]   Help  me,  Lysander,  help  me!    do  thy 
best 

To  pluck  this  crawling  serpent  from  my  breast ! 

Ay  me,  for  pity !   what  a  dream  was  here ! 

Lysander,  look  how  I  do  quake  with  fear: 

Methought  a  serpent  eat  my  heart  away, 

And  you  sat  smiling  at  his  cruel  prey.  1 50 

Lysander!    what,  removed?     Lysander!    lord! 
"     What,  out  of  hearing?  gone?  no  sound,  no  word? 

Alack,  where  are  you  ?  speak,  an  if  you  hear ; 

Speak,  of  all  loves !   I  swoon  almost  with  fear. 

No  ?  then  I  well  perceive  you  are  not  nigh : 

Either  death  or  you  I  '11  find  immediately.  [Exit, 


SI 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

ACT  THIRD. 
Scene  I. 

The  wood.     Titania  lying  asleep. 

Enter  Quince,  Snug,  Bottom,  Flute,  Snout,  and 
Starveling. 

Bot,  Are  we  all  met  ? 

Quin.  Pat,  pat ;  and  here  's  a  marvellous  convenient 
place  for  our  rehearsal.  This  green  plot  shall 
be  our  stage,  this  hawthorn-brake  our  tiring- 
house;  and  we  will  do  it  in  action  as  we  will 
do  it  before  the  duke. 

Bot.  Peter  Quince, — 

Quin.  What  sayest  thou.  Bully  Bottom  ? 

Bot.  There  are  things  in  this  comedy  of  Pyramus 

and  Thisby  that  will  never  please.     First,  Pyr-     lo 
amus  must  draw  a  sword  to  kill  himself ;   which 
the    ladies    cannot    abide.     How    answer    you 
that? 

Snout.  By  'r  lakin,  a  parlous  fear. 

Star.  I  believe  we  must  leave  the  killing  out,  when 
all  is  done. 

Bot.  Not  a  whit:  I  have  a  device  to  make  all  well. 
Write  me  a  prologue ;  and  let  the  prologue  seem 
to  say,  we  will  do  no  harm  with  our  swords,  and 
that  Pyramus  is  not  killed  indeed ;  and,  for  the  20 
more  better  assurance,  tell  them  that  I  Pyramus 
am  not  Pyramus,  but  Bottom  the  weaver:  this 
will  put  them  out  of  fear. 

Quin.  Well,  we  will  have  such  a  prologue;  and  it 
shall  be  written  in  eight  and  six. 

52 


NIGHT*S  DREAM  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

Bot.  No,  make  it  two  more ;  let  it  be  written  in  eight 
and  eight. 

Snout.  Will  not  the  ladies  be  afeard  of  the  lion? 

Star.  I  fear  it,  I  promise  you. 

Bot.  Masters,  you  ought  to  consider  with  yourselves :     30 
to  bring  in, — God  shield  us ! — a  lion  among  la- 
dies, is  a  most  dreadful  thing ;  for  there  is  not  a 
more  fearful  wild- fowl  than  your  lion  living; 
and  we  ought  to  look  to  't. 

Snout.  Therefore  another  prologue  must  tell  he  is  not 
a  Hon. 

Bot.  Nay,  you  must  name  his  name,  and  half  his  face 
must  be  seen  through  the  Hon's  neck;  and  he 
himself  must  speak  through,  saying  thus,  or  to 
the  same  defect, — '  Ladies,' — or,  '  Fair  ladies,  40 
— I  would  wish  you,' — or,  *  I  would  request  you/ 
— or,  '  I  would  entreat  you, — not  to  fear,  not  to 
tremble :  my  Hfe  for  yours.  If  you  think  I  come 
hither  as  a  lion,  it  were  pity  of  my  life :  no,  I 
am  no  such  thing ;  I  am  a  man  as  other  men 
are :  '  and  there  indeed  let  him  name  his  name, 
and  tell  them  plainly,  he  is  Snug  the  joiner. 

Onin.  Well,  it  shall  be  so.     But  there  is  two  hard 
things ;    that  is,  to  bring  the  moonlight  into  a 
chamber;    for,  you  know,  Pyramus  and  Thisby     50 
meet  by  moonlight. 

Snout.  Doth  the  moon  shine  that  night  we  play  our 
play? 

Bot.  A  calendar,  a  calendar!    look  in  the  almanac; 
find  out  moonshine,  find  out  moonshine. 

Quin.  Yes,  it  doth  shine  that  night. 

Bot.  Why,  then  may  you  leave  a  casement  of  the 

53 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

great  chamber  window,  where  we  play,  open,  and 
the  moon  may  shine  in  at  the  casement. 

Quin.  Ay ;  or  else  one  must  come  in  with  a  bush  of  60 
thorns  and  a  lantern,  and  say  he  comes  to  dis- 
figure, or  to  present,  the  person  of  moonshine. 
Then,  there  is  another  thing:  we  must  have  a 
wall  in  the  great  chamber;  for  Pyramus  and 
Thisby,  says  the  story,  did  talk  through  the  chink 
of  a  wall. 

Snout.  You  can  never  bring  in  a  wall.     What  say 
you.  Bottom? 

Bot,  Some  man  or  other  must  present  wall :   and  let 

him  have  some  plaster,  or  some  loam,  or  some     70 
rough-cast  about  him,  to  signify  wall;    and  let 
him   hold   his   fingers   thus,   and   through   that 
cranny  shall  Pyramus  and  Thisby  whisper. 

Quin.  If  that  may  be,  then  all  is  well.     Come,  sit 
down,   every  mother's   son,   and  rehearse  your 
parts.     Pyramus,   you  begin :    when  you  have 
spoken  your  speech,  enter  into  that  brake:   and    • 
so  every  one  according  to  his  cue. 

Enter  Puck  behind. 

Puck.  What  hempen  home-spuns  have  we  swagger- 
ing here. 

So  near  the  cradle  of  the  fairy  queen?  80 

What,  a  play  toward !  I  '11  be  an  auditor ; 

An  actor  too  perhaps,  if  I  see  cause. 
Quin.  Speak,  Pyramus.    Thisby,  stand  forth. 
Bot.  Thisby,  the  flowers  of  odious  savours  sweet, — 
Quin.  Odours,  odours. 
Bot.  odours  savours  sweet : 

So  hath  thy  breath,  my  dearest  Thisby  dear. 

54 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

But  hark,  a  voice !   stay  thou  but  here  awhile, 

And  by  and  by  I  will  to  thee  appear.  [Exit. 

Puck.  A  stranger  Pyramus  than  e'er  played  here.  90 

[Exit 

Flu.  Must  I  speak  now  ? 

Quin,  Ay,  marry,  must  you ;  for  you  must  under- 
stand he  goes  but  to  see  a  noise  that  he  heard, 
and  is  to  come  again. 

Flu.  Most  radiant  Pyramus,  most  lily-white  of  hue, 

Of  colour  like  the  red  rose  on  triumphant  brier. 
Most  brisky  juvenal,  and  eke  most  lovely  Jew, 

As  true  as  truest  horse,  that  yet  would  never  tire, 
I  '11  meet  thee,  Pyramus,  at  Ninny's  tomb. 

Quin.  '  Ninus'  tomb,'  man :  why,  you  must  not  speak  100 
that  yet ;     that  you  answer  to  Pyramus :     you 
speak  all  your  part  at  once,  cues  and  all.    Pyra- 
mus   enter :      your   cue   is   past  ;    it    is    '  never 
tire.' 

Flu.  O, — As  true  as  truest  horse,  that  yet  would  never 
tire. 

Re-enter  Puck,  and  Bottom  with  an  ass's  head. 

Bot.    If  I  were  fair,  Thisby,  I  were  only  thine. 
Quin.  O  monstrous !    O  strange !    we  are  haunted. 
Pray,  masters  !    fly,  masters !    Help ! 
[Exeunt  Quince,  Snug,  Flute,  Snout,  and  Starveling. 
Puck.  I  '11  follow  you,  I  '11  lead  you  about  a  round. 

Through  bog,  through  bush,  through  brake,  through 
brier:  1 10 

Sometime  a  horse  I  '11  be,  sometime  a  hound, 
A  hog,  a  headless  bear,  sometime  a  fire : 

55 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

And  neigh,  and  bark,  and  grunt,  and  roar,  and 

burn. 
Like  horse,  hound,  hog,  bear,  fire,  at  every  turn. 

[Exit. 
Bot.  Why  do  they  run  away?   this  is  a  knavery  of 
them  to  make  me  afeard. 

Re-enter  Snout. 

Snout.  O  Bottom,  thou  art  changed!   what  do  I  see 

on  thee? 
Bot.  What  do  you  see?  you  see  an  ass-head  of  your 

own,  do  you?  [Exit  Snout.  120 

'       Re-enter  Quince. 

Quin.  Bless  thee.   Bottom!     bless   thee!     thou  art 

translated.  [Exit. 

Bot.  I  see  their  knavery :  this  is  to  make  an  ass  of 
me;  to  fright  me,  if  they  could.  But  I  will 
not  stir  from  this  place,  do  what  they  can:  I 
will  walk  up  and  down  here,  and  I  will  sing,  that 
they  shall  hear  I  am  not  afraid.  [Sings. 

The  ousel  cock  so  black  of  hue, 

With  orange-tawny  bill. 
The  throstle  with  his  note  so  true,  130 

The  wren  with  little  quill ; 
Tita.   [Azvaking]   What  angel  wakes  me  from  my 

flowery  bed  ? 
Bot.   [Sings] 

The  finch,  the  sparrow,  and  the  lark. 

The  plain-song  cuckoo  gray, 
Whose  note  full  many  a  man  doth  mark, 
And  dares  not  answer  nay ; — 

56 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

for,  indeed,  who  would  set  his  wit  to  so  fooHsh 
a  bird?  who  would  give  a  bird  the  lie,  though 
he  cry  '  cuckoo  '  never  so  ?  140 

Tita.  I  pray  thee,  gentle  mortal,  sing  again : 
Mine  ear  is  much  enamour'd  of  thy  note ; 
So  is  mine  eye  enthralled  to  thy  shape ; 
And  thy  fair  virtue's  force  perforce  doth  move  me 
On  the  first  view  to  say,  to  swear,  I  love  thee. 

Bot.  IMethinks,  mistress,  you  should  have  little  rea- 
son for  that:  and  yet,  to  say  the  truth,  reason 
and  love  keep  little  company  together  now-a- 
days  ;  the  more  the  pity,  that  some  honest  neigh- 
bours will  not  make  them  friends.  Nay,  I  can  150 
gleek  upon  occasion. 

Tita.  Thou  art  as  wise  as  thou  art  beautiful. 

Bot.  Not  so,  neither :  but  if  I  had  wit  enough  to  get 
out  of  this  wood,  I  have  enough  to  serve  mine 
own  turn. 

Tita.  Out  of  this  wood  do  not  desire  to  go : 

Thou  shalt  remain  here,  whether  thou  wik  or  no. 

I  am  a  spirit  of  no  common  rate : 

The  summer  still  doth  tend  upon  my  state ; 

And  I  do  love  thee :  therefore,  go  with  me ;  160 

I  '11  give  thee  fairies  to  attend  on  thee ; 

And  they  shall  fetch  thee  jewels  from  the  deep. 

And  sing,  while  thou  on  pressed  flowers  dost  sleep : 

And  I  will  purge  thy  mortal  grossness  so. 

That  thou  shalt  like  an  airy  spirit  go. 

Peaseblossom !    Cobweb!    Moth!    and  Mustardseed! 

Enter  Peaseblossom,  Cobweb,  Moth,  and  Mustardseed. 

First  Fax.  Ready. 

57 


Act  III.  Sc. 

i. 

A  MIDSUMMER- 

Sec.  Fai. 
Third  Fai. 
Fourth  Fai. 
All. 

And! 

And! 

Andl. 

Where  shall  we  go? 

Tit  a.  Be  kind  and  courteous  to  this  gentleman; 
Hop  in  his  walks,  and  gambol  in  his  eyes ; 
Feed  him  with  apricocks  and  dewberries,  170 

With  purple  grapes,  green  figs,  and  mulberries ; 
The  honey-bags  steal  from  the  humble-bees, 
And  for  night-tapers  crop  their  waxen  thighs, 
And  light  them  at  the  fiery  glow-worm's  eyes, 
To  have  my  love  to  bed  and  to  arise ; 
And  pluck  the  wings  from  painted  butterflies, 
To  fan  the  moonbeams  from  his  sleeping  eyes  : 
Nod  to  him,  elves,  and  do  him  courtesies. 

First  Fai.  Hail,  mortal ! 

Sec.  Fai.  Hall !  180 

Third  Fai.  Hail ! 

Fourth  Fai.  Hail ! 

Bot.  I  cry  your  worships  mercy,  heartily :  I  beseech 
your  worship's  name. 

Coh.    Cobweb. 

Bot,  I  shall  desire  you  of  more  acquaintance,  good 
Master  Cobweb  :  if  I  cut  my  finger,  I  shall  make 
bold  with  you.    Your  name,  honest  gentleman  ? 

Peas.  Peaseblossom. 

Bot.  I  pray  you,  commend  me  to  Mistress  Squash,   190 
your    mother,    and    to    Master    Peascod,    your 
father.     Good  Master  Peaseblossom,  I  shall  de- 
sire you  of  more  acquaintance  too.    Your  name, 
I  beseech  you,  sir  ? 

Mus.  Mustardseed. 

58 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Bot.  Good  Master  Mustardseed,  I  know  your  pa- 
tience well:  that  same  cowardly,  giant-like  ox- 
beef  hath  devoured  many  a  gentleman  of  your 
house:  I  promise  you  your  kindred  hath  made 
my  eyes  water  ere  now.  I  desire  your  more  ac-  200 
quaintance,  good  Master  Mustardseed. 

Tita.  Come,  wait  upon  him  ;  lead  him  to  my  bower.  . 
The  moon  methinks  looks  with  a  watery  eye ; 
And  when  she  weeps,  weeps  every  little  flower, 
Lamenting  some  enforced  chastity. 
Tie  up  my  love's  tongue,  bring  him  silently. 

{Exeunt. 

Scene  II. 

'Another  part  of  the  wood. 

Enter  Oheron. 

Obe,  I  wonder  if  Titania  be  awaked  ; 

Then,  what  it  was  that  next  came  in  her  eye, 
Which  she  must  dote  on  in  extremity. 

Enter  Puck. 

Here  comes  my  messenger. 

How  now,  mad  spirit! 
What  night-rule  now  about  this  haunted  grove  ? 
Puck.  My  mistress  with  a  monster  is  in  love. 
Near  to  her  close  and  consecrated  bower, 
While  she  was  in  her  dull  and  sleeping  hour, 
A  crew  of  patches,  rude  mechanicals, 
That  work  for  bread  upon  Athenian  stalls,  10 

Were  met  together  to  rehearse  a  play. 
Intended  for  great  Theseus'  nuptial-day. 

59 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

The  shallowest  thick-skin  of  that  barren  sort, 

Who  Pyramus  presented,  in  their  sport 

Forsook  his  scene,  and  enter'd  in  a  brake : 

When  I  did  him  at  this  advantage  take, 

An  ass's  nole  I  fixed  on  his  head : 

Anon  his  Thisbe  must  be  answered, 

And  forth  my  mimic  comes.    When  they  him  spy. 

As  wild  geese  that  the  creeping  fowler  eye,  20 

Or  russet-pated  choughs,  many  in  sort. 

Rising  and  cawing  at  the  gun's  report. 

Sever  themselves  and  madly  sweep  the  sky. 

So,  at  his  sight,  away  his  fellows  fly ; 

And,  at  our  stamp,  here  o'er  and  o'er  one  falls ; 

He  murder  cries,  and  help  from  Athens  calls. 

Their  sense  thus  weak,  lost  with  their  fears  thus 

strong, 
Made  senseless  things  begin  to  do  them  wrong ; 
For  briers  and  thorns  at  their  apparel  snatch ; 
Some  sleeves,  some  hats,  from  yielders  all  things 

catch. 
I  led  them  on  in  this  distracted  fear,  31 

And  left  sweet  Pyramus  translated  there; 
When  in  that  moment,  so  it  came  to  pass, 
Titania  waked,  and  straightway  loved  an  ass. 

Obe.  This  falls  out  better  than  I  could  devise. 
But  hast  thou  yet  latch'd  the  Athenian's  eyes 
With  a  love-juice,  as  I  did  bid  thee  do? 

Puck.  I  took  him  sleeping, — that  is  finish'd  too, — 
And  the  Athenian  woman  by  his  side ; 
That,  when  he  waked,  of  force  she  must  be  eyed.     40 

Enter  Hermia  and  Demetrius. 

Obe.  Stand  close:  this  is  the  same  Athenian. 

60 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Puck.  This  is  the  woman,  but  not  this  the  man. 

Dem.  O,  why  rebuke  you  him  that  loves  you  so? 
Lay  breath  so  bitter  on  your  bitter  foe. 

Her.  Now  I  but  chide ;  but  I  should  use  thee  worse, 
For  thou,  I  fear,  hast  given  me  cause  to  curse. 
If  thou  hast  slain  Lysander  in  his  sleep, 
Being  o'er  shoes  in  blood,  plunge  in  the  deep. 
And  kill  me  too. 

The  sun  v/as  not  so  true  unto  the  day  50 

As  he  to  me:   would  he  have  stolen  away 
From  sleeping  Hermia?     I  '11  believe  as  soon 
This  whole  earth  may  be  bored,  and  that  the  moon 
May  through  the  centre  creep,  and  so  displease 
Her  brother's  noontide  with  the  Antipodes. 
It  cannot  be  but  thou  hast  murder'd  him ; 
So  should  a  murderer  look,  so  dead,  so  grim. 

Dcm.  So  should  the  murder'd  look ;  and  so  should  I, 
Pierced  through  the  heart  with  your  stern  cruelty : 
Yet  you,  the  murderer,  look  as  bright,  as  clear,       60 
As  yonder  Venus  in  her  glimmering  sphere. 

Her.  What 's  this  to  my  Lysander  ?  where  is  he  ? 
Ah,  good  Demetrius,  wilt  thou  give  him  me  ? 

Dem.  I  had  rather  give  his  carcass  to  my  hounds. 

Her.  Out,  dog !  out,  cur !  thou  drivest  me  past  the  bounds 
Of  maiden's  patience.     Hast  thou  slain  him,  then? 
Henceforth  be  never  number'd  among  men  ! 
O,  once  tell  true,  tell  true,  even  for  my  sake ! 
Durst  thou  have  look'd  upon  him  being  awake, 
And  hast  thou  kill'd  him  sleeping?     O  brave  touch! 
Could  not  a  worm,  an  adder,  do  so  much?  71 

An  adder  did  it ;    for  with  doubler  tongue 
Than  thine,  thou  serpent,  never  adder  stung. 

61 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  A  MIDSUMMER= 

Dem.  You  spend  your  passion  on  a  misprised  mood : 
I  am  not  guilty  of  Lysander's  blood ; 
Nor  is  he  dead,  for  aught  that  I  can  tell. 

Her.  I  pray  thee,  tell  me  then  that  he  is  well. 

Dem.  An  if  I  could,  what  should  I  get  therefore? 

Her.  A  privilege,  never  to  see  me  more. 

And  from  thy  hated  presence  part  I  so  :  80 

See  me  no  more,  whether  he  be  dead  or  no.  [Exit. 

Dem.  There  is  no  following  her  in  this  fierce  vein : 
Here  therefore  for  a  while  I  will  remain. 
So  sorrow's  heaviness  doth  heavier  grow 
For  debt  that  bankrupt  sleep  doth  sorrow  owe ; 
Which  now  in  some  slight  measure  it  will  pay, 
If  for  his  tender  here  I  make  some  stay. 

[Lies  down  and  sleeps. 

Obe.  What  hast  thou  done?  thou  hast  mistaken  quite. 
And  laid  the  love-juice  on  some  true-love's  sight: 
Of  thy  misprision  must  perforce  ensue  90 

Some  true  love  tum'd,  and  not  a  false  turn'd  true. 

Piick.  Then  fate  o'er-rules,  that,  one  man  holding  troth, 
A  million  fail,  confounding  oath  on  oath. 

Obe.  About  the  wood  go  swifter  than  the  wind, 
And  Helena  of  Athens  look  thou  find : 
All  fancy-sick  she  is  and  pale  of  cheer. 
With    sighs    of    love,    that    costs    the    fresh    blood 

dear: 
By  some  illusion  see  thou  bring  her  here : 
I  '11  charm  his  eyes  against  she  do  appear. 

Pack.  I  go,  I  go ;  look  how  I  go,  100 

Swifter  than  arrow  from  the  Tartar's  bow.  [Exit. 

Obe.  Flower  of  this  purple  dye, 

Hit  with  Cupid's  archery, 

62 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Sink  in  apple  of  his  eye 
When  his  love  he  doth  espy, 
Let  her  shine  as  gloriously 
As  the  Venus  of  the  sky. 
When  thou  wakest,  if  she  be  by, 
Beg  of  her  for  remedy. 

Re-enter  Puck, 

Puck.  Captain  of  our  fairy  band  no 

Helena  is  here  at  hand  ; 

And  the  youth,  mistook  by  me. 

Pleading  for  a  lover's  fee. 

Shall  we  their  fond  pageant  see  ? 

Lord,  what  fools  these  mortals  be ! 
Ohe.  Stand  aside:   the  noise  they  make 

Will  cause  Demetrius  to  awake. 
Puck.  Then  will  two  at  once  woo  one ; 

That  must  needs  be  sport  alone : 

And  those  things  do  best  please  me  120 

That  befall  preposterously. 

Enter  Lysander  and  Helena. 

Lys.  Why  should  you  think  that  I  should  woo  in  scorn  ? 

Scorn  and  derision  never  come  in  tears : 
Look,  when  I  vow,  I  weep ;  and  vows  so  born, 

In  their  nativity  all  truth  appears. 
How  can  these  things  in  me  seem  scorn  to  you, 
Bearing  the  badge  of  faith,  to  prove  them  true  ? 
Hel.  You  do  advance  your  cunning  more  and  more. 

When  truth  kills  truth,  O  devilish-holy  fray ! 
These  vows  are  Hermia's :  will  you  give  her  o'er  ?  130 

Weigh  oath  with  oath,  and  you  will  nothing  weigh : 

62 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

Your  vows  to  her  and  me  put  in  two  scales, 

Will  even  weigh ;  and  both  as  light  as  tales.  ^ 

Lys.  I  had  no  judgement  w^hen  to  her  I  swore. 

Hel.  Nor  none,  in  my  mind,  now  you  give  her  o'er. 

Lys.  Demetrius  loves  her,  and  he  loves  not  you. 

Dem.    [Awaking]   O  Helen,  goddess,  nymph,  perfect,  di- 
vine! 
To  what,  my  love,  shall  I  compare  thine  eyne? 
Crystal  is  muddy.    O,  how  ripe  in  show 
Thy  lips,  those  kissing  cherries,  tempting  grow !   140 
That  pure  congealed  white,  high  Taurus'  snow, 
Fann'd  with  the  eastern  wind,  turns  to  a  crow 
When  thou  hold'st  up  thy  hand :  O,  let  me  kiss 
This  princess  of  pure  white,  this  seal  of  bliss ! 

Hel.  O  spite !   O  hell !   I  see  you  all  are  bent 
To  set  against  me  for  your  merriment : 
If  you  were  civil  and  knew  courtesy. 
You  would  not  do  me  thus  much  injury. 
Can  you  not  hate  me,  as  I  know  you  do. 
But  you  must  join  in  souls  to  mock  me  too?  150 

If  you  were  men,  as  men  you  are  in  show. 
You  would  not  use  a  gentle  lady  so ; 
To  vow,  and  swear,  and  superpraise  my  parts, 
When  I  am  sure  you  hate  me  with  your  hearts. 
You  both  are  rivals,  and  love  Hermia ; 
And  now  both  rivals,  to  mock  Helena ; 
A  trim  exploit,  a  manly  enterprise, 
To  conjure  tears  up  in  a  poor  maid's  eyes 
With  your  derision  !  none  of  noble  sort 
Would  so  offend  a  virgin,  and  extort  160 

A  poor  soul's  patience,  all  to  make  you  sport. 

Lys.  You  are  unkind,  Demetrius ;   be  not  so ; 

For  you  love  Hermia ;  this  you  know  I  know : 

64 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

And  here,  with  all  good  will,  with  all  my  heart. 

In  Hermia's  love  I  yield  you  up  my  part ; 

And  yours  of  Helena  to  me  bequeath, 

Whom  I  do  love,  and  will  do  till  my  death. 
Hel  Never  did  mockers  waste  more  idle  breath. 
Dem.  Lysander,  keep  thy  Hermia  ;  I  will  none  : 

If  e'er  I  loved  her,  all  that  love  is  gone.  170 

My  heart  to  her  but  as  guest-wise  sojoum'd. 

And  now  to  Helen  is  it  home  return'd. 

There  to  remain. 
J^ys.  Helen,  it  is  not  so. 

Dem.  Disparage  not  the  faith  thou  dost  not  know, 

Lest,  to  thy  peril,  thou  aby  it  dear. 

Look,  where  thy  love  comes  ;  yonder  is  thy  dear. 

Re-enter  Hermia. 

Her.  Dark  night,  that  from  the  eye  his  function  takes. 
The  ear  more  quick  of  apprehension  makes  ; 
Wherein  it  doth  impair  the  seeing  sense, 
It  pays  the  hearing  double  recompence.  180 

Thou  art  not  by  mine  eye,  Lysander,  found ; 
Mine  ear,  I  thank  it,  brought  me  to  thy  sound. 
But  why  unkindly  didst  thou  leave  me  so  ? 

Lys.  W^hy  should  he  stay,  whom  love  doth  press  to  go? 

Her.  What  love  could  press  Lysander  from  my  side  ? 

Lys.  Lysander's  love,  that  would  not  let  him  bide. 
Fair  Helena,  who  more  engilds  the  night 
Than  all  yon  fiery  oes  and  eyes  of  light. 
Why  seek  'st  thou  me  ?  could  not  this  make  thee  know. 
The  hate  I  bear  thee  made  me  leave  thee  so?  190 

Her.  You  speak  not  as  you  think :  it  cannot  be. 

Hel.  Lo,  she  is  one  of  this  confederacy ! 

65 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

Now  I  perceive  they  have  conjoin'd  all  three 

To  fashion  this  false  sport,  in  spite  of  me. 

Injurious  Hermia !  most  ungrateful  maid ! 

Have  you  conspired,  have  you  with  these  contrived 

To  bait  me  with  this  foul  derision  ? 

Is  all  the  counsel  that  we  two  have  shared, 

The  sisters'  vows,  the  hours  that  we  have  spent, 

When  we  have  chid  the  hasty- footed  time  200 

For  parting  us, — O,  is  all  forgot  ? 

All  school-days'  friendship,  childhood  innocence? 

We,  Hermia,  like  two  artificial  gods. 

Have  with  our  needles  created  both  one  flower. 

Both  on  one  sampler,  sitting  on  one  cushion. 

Both  warbling  of  one  song,  both  in  one  key ; 

As  if  our  hands,  our  sides,  voices,  and  minds, 

Had  been  incorporate.    So  we  grew  together, 

Like  to  a  double  cherry,  seeming  parted, 

But  yet  an  union  in  partition ;  210 

Two  lovely  berries  moulded  on  one  stem ; 

So,  with  two  seeming  bodies,  but  one  heart ; 

Two  of  the  first,  like  coats  in  heraldry. 

Due  but  to  one,  and  crowned  with  one  crest. 

And  will  you  rent  our  ancient  love  asunder. 

To  join  with  men  in  scorning  your  poor  friend? 

It  is  not  friendly,  'tis  not  maidenly : 

Our  sex,  as  well  as  I,  may  chide  you  for  it. 

Though  I  alone  do  feel  the  injury. 

Her.  I  am  amazed  at  your  passionate  words.  220 

I  scorn  you  not :  it  seems  that  you  scorn  me. 

Hel.  Have  you  not  set  Lysander,  as  in  scorn. 
To  follow  me  and  praise  my  eyes  and  face? 
And  made  your  other  love,  Demetrius, 
66 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Who  even  but  now  did  spurn  me  with  his  foot, 

To  call  me  goddess,  nymph,  divine  and  rare, 

Precious,  celestial  ?    Wherefore  speaks  he  this 

To  her  he  hates  ?  and  wherefore  doth  Lysander 

Deny  your  love,  so  rich  within  his  soul. 

And  tender  me,  forsooth,  affection,  230 

But  by  your  setting  on,  by  your  consent? 

What  though  I  be  not  so  in  grace  as  you, 

So  hung  upon  with  love,  so  fortunate, 

But  miserable  most,  to  love  unloved? 

This  you  should  pity  rather  than  despise. 

Her.  I  understand  not  what  you  mean  by  this. 

Hel.  Ay,  do,  persever,  counterfeit  sad  looks. 

Make  mouths  upon  me  when  I  turn  my  back  ; 

Wink  each  at  other ;  hold  the  sweet  jest  up : 

This  sport,  well  carried,  shall  be  chronicled.  240 

If  you  have  any  pity,  grace,  or  manners. 

You  would  not  make  me  such  an  argument. 

But  fare  ye  well :  'tis  partly  my  own  fault ; 

Which  death  or  absence  soon  shall  remedy. 

Lys.  Stay,  gentle  Helena ;  hear  my  excuse : 
My  love,  my  life,  my  soul,  fair  Helena ! 

Hel.  O  excellent ! 

Her.  Sweet,  do  not  scorn  her  so. 

Dem.  If  she  cannot  entreat,  I  can  compel. 

Lys.  Thou  canst  compel  no  more  than  she  entreat : 

Thy  threats  have  no  more  strength  than  her  weak 
prayers.  250 

Helen,  I  love  thee  ;  by  my  life,  I  do :  , 

I  swear  by  that  which  I  will  lose  for  thee, 
To  prove  him  false  that  says  I  love  thee  not. 

Dem,  I  say  I  love  thee  more  than  he  can  do. 

(>7 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  A  MIDSUMMER^ 

Lys,  If  thou  say  so,  withdraw,  and  prove  it  too. 

Dem,  Quick,  come ! 

Her,  Lysander,  whereto  tends  all  this? 

Lys.  Away,  you  Ethiope ! 

Dem.  No,  no;  he'll  [stay]. 

Seem  to  break  loose ;  take  on  as  you  would  follow, 

But  yet  come  not :  you  are  a  tame  man,  go ! 
Lys.  Hang  off,  thou  cat,  thou  burr !  vile  thing,  let  loose, 

Or  I  will  shake  thee  from  me  like  a  serpent !  261 

Her.  Why  are  you  grown  so  rude  ?  what  change  is  this  ? 

Sweet  love, — 
Lys.  Thy  love!  out,  tawny  Tartar,  out! 

Out,  loathed  medicine  !  hated  potion,  hence ! 
Her.  Do  you  not  jest  ? 

Hel.  Yes,  sooth;  and  so  do  you. 

Lys.  Demetrius,  I  will  keep  my  word  with  thee. 
Dem.  I  would  I  had  your  bond,  for  I  perceive 

A  weak  bond  holds  you :  I  '11  not  trust  your  word. 
Lys.  What,  should  I  hurt  her,  strike  her,  kill  her  dead  ? 

Although  I  hate  her,  I  '11  not  harm  her  so.  270 

Her.  What,  can  you  do  me  greater  harm  than  hate  ? 

Hate  me !   wherefore  ?    O  me !   what  news,  my  love ! 

Am  not  I  Hermia  ?  are  not  you  Lysander  ? 

I  am  as  fair  now  as  I  was  erewhile. 

Since  night  you  loved  me ;  yet  since  night  you  left  me : 

Why,  then  you  left  me, — O,  the  gods  forbid ! — 

In  earnest,  shall  I  say? 
Lys.  Ay,  by  my  life ; 

^       And  never  did  desire  to  see  thee  more. 

Therefore  be  out  of  hope,  of  question,  of  doubt ; 

Be  certain,  nothing  truer ;   'tis  no  jest  280 

That  I  do  hate  thee,  and  love  Helena. 

68 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Her.  O  me !  you  juggler !  you  canker-blossom ! 

You  thief  of  love !   what,  have  you  come  by  night 

And  stolen  my  love's  heart  from  him  ? 
Hel  Fine,  i'  faith  ! 

Have  you  no  modesty,  no  maiden  shame, 

No  touch  of  bashfulness  ?    What,  will  you  tear 

Impatient  answers  from  my  gentle  tongue  ? 

Fie,  fie !  you  counterfeit,  you  puppet,  you ! 
Her.  Puppet  ?  why  so  ?  ay,  that  way  goes  the  game. 

Now  I  perceive  that  she  hath  made  compare  290 

Between  our  statures ;  she  hath  urged  her  height ; 

And  with  her  personage,  her  tall  personage, 

Her  height,  forsooth,  she  hath  prevail'd  with  him. 

And  are  you  grown  so  high  in  his  esteem. 

Because  I  am  so  dwarfish  and  so  low  ? 

How  low  am  I,  thou  painted  maypole?   speak; 

How  low  am  I !  I  am  not  yet  so  low 

But  that  my  nails  can  reach  unto  thine  eyes. 
Hel.  I  pray  you,  though  you  mock  me,  gentlemen, 

Let  her  not  hurt  me  :  I  was  never  curst ;  300 

I  have  no  gift  at  all  in  shrewishness ; 

I  am  a  right  maid  for  my  cowardice : 

Let  her  not  strike  me.    You  perhaps  may  think, 

Because  she  is  something  lower  than  myself, 

That  I  can  match  her. 
Her.  Lower !  hark,  again. 

Hel.  Good  Hermia,  do  not  be  so  bitter  with  me. 

I  evermore  did  love  you,  Hermia, 

Did  ever  keep  your  counsels,  never  wrong'd  you ; 

Save  that,  in  love  unto  Demetrius, 

I  told  him  of  your  stealth  unto  this  wood.  310 

He  follow'd  you ;   for  love  I  follow'd  him ; 

69 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

But  he  hath  chid  me  hence,  and  threaten'd  me 

To  strike  me,  spurn  me,  nay,  to  kill  me  too : 

And  now,  so  you  will  let  me  quiet  go, 

To  Athens  will  I  bear  my  folly  back, 

And  follow  you  no  further :  let  me  go : 

You  see  how  simple  and  how  fond  I  am. 
Her.  Why,  get  you  gone :   who  is  't  that  hinders  you  ? 
Hel,  A  foolish  heart,  that  I  leave  here  behind. 
Her.  What,  with  Lysander  ? 

Hel.  With  Demetrius.  320 

Lys.  Be  not  afraid ;  she  shall  not  harm  thee,  Helena. 
Dem.  No,  sir,  she  shall  not,  though  you  take  her  part. 
Hel.  O,  when  she's  angry,  she  is  keen  and  shrewd ! 

She  was  a  vixen  when  she  went  to  school ; 

And  though  she  be  but  little,  she  is  fierce. 
Her.  Little  again  !  nothing  but  low  and  little ! 

Why  will  you  suffer  her  to  flout  me  thus  ? 

Let  me  come  to  her. 
Lys.  Get  you  gone,  you  dwarf ; 

You  minimus,  of  hindering  knot-grass  made ; 

You  bead,  you  acorn, 
Dem.  You  are  too  officious  330 

In  her  behalf  that  scorns  your  services. 

Let  her  alone  :   speak  not  of  Helena  ; 

Take  not  her  part ;  for,  if  thou  dost  intend 

Never  so  little  show  of  love  to  her, 

Thou  shalt  aby  it. 
Lys.  Now  she  holds  me  not ; 

Now  follow,  if  thou  darest,  to  try  whose  right, 

Of  thine  or  mine,  is  most  in  Helena. 
Dem.  Follow !  nay,  I  '11  go  with  thee,  cheek  by  jole. 

[Exeunt  Lysander  and  Demetrius. 

70 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Her.  You,  mistress,  all  this  coil  is  'long  of  you 

Nay,  go  not  back. 
Hel.  I  will  not  trust  you,  I  340 

Nor  longer  stay  in  your  curst  company. 

Your  hands  than  mine  are  quicker  for  a  fray. 

My  legs  are  longer  though,  to  run  away.  [Exit. 

Her.  I  am  amazed,  and  know  not  what  to  say.        [Exit. 
Obe.  This  is  thy  negligence :  still  thou  mistakest, 

Or  else  committ'st  thy  knaveries  wilfully. 
Puck.  Believe  me,  king  of  shadows,  I  mistook. 

Did  not  you  tell  me  I  should  know  the  man 

By  the  Athenian  garments  he  had  on  ? 

And  so  far  blameless  proves  my  enterprise,  350 

That  I  have  'nointed  an  Athenian's  eyes ; 

And  so  far  am  I  glad  it  so  did  sort, 

As  this  their  jangling  I  esteem  a  sport. 
Obe.  Thou  see'st  these  lovers  seek  a  place  to  fight: 

Hie  therefore,  Robin,  overcast  the  night ; 

The  starry  welkin  cover  thou  anon 

With  drooping  fog,  as  black  as  Acheron ; 

And  lead  these  testy  rivals  so  astray, 

As  one  come  not  within  another's  way. 

Like  to  Lysander  sometime  frame  thy  tongue,        360 

Then  stir  Demetrius  up  with  bitter  wrong ; 

And  sometime  rail  thou  like  Demetrius  ; 

And  from  each  other  look  thou  lead  them  thus, 

Till  o'er  their  brows  death-counterfeiting  sleep 

With  leaden  legs  and  batty  wings  doth  creep : 

Then  crush  this  herb  into  Lysander's  eye ; 

Whose  liquor  hath  this  virtuous  property, 

To  take  from  thence  all  error  with  his  might, 

And  make  his  eyeballs  roll  with  wonted  sight. 

71 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  A  MIDSUMMER" 

When  they  next  wake,  all  this  derision  370 

Shall  seem  a  dream  and  fruitless  vision ; 

And  back  to  Athens  shall  the  lovers  wend, 

With  league  whose  date  till  death  shall  never  end. 

Whiles  I  in  this  affair  do  thee  employ, 

I  '11  to  my  queen  and  beg  her  Indian  boy ; 

And  then  I  will  her  charmed  eye  release 

From  monster's  view,  and  all  things  shall  be  peace. 

Puck..  My  fairy  lord,  this  must  be  done  with  haste, 
For  night's  swift  dragons  cut  the  clouds  full  fast, 
And  yonder  shines  Aurora's  harbinger ;  380 

At   whose   approach,    ghosts,    wandering   here   and 

there. 
Troop  home  to  churchyards  :  damned  spirits  all. 
That  in  crossways  and  floods  have  burial, 
Already  to  their  wormy  beds  are  gone ; 
For  fear  lest  day  should  look  their  shames  upon, 
They  wilfully  themselves  exile  from  light, 
And  must  for  aye  consort  with  black-brow'd  night. 

Obe,  But  we  are  spirits  of  another  sort : 

I  with  the  morning's  love  have  oft  made  sport ; 

And,  like  a  forester,  the  groves  may  tread,  390 

Even  till  the  eastern  gate,  all  fiery-red. 

Opening  on  Neptune  with  fair  blessed  beams. 

Turns  into  yellow  gold  his  salt  green  streams. 

But,  notwithstanding,  haste ;   make  no  delay  : 

We  may  effect  this  business  yet  ere  day.  [Exit. 

Fuck.  Up  and  down,  up  and  down, 

I  w411  lead  them  up  and  down : 
I  am  fear'd  in  field  and  town : 
Goblin,  lead  them  up  and  down. 
Here  comes  one.  400 

72 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Re-enter  Lysander. 

Lys.  Where  art  thou,  proud  Demetrius  ?   speak  thou  now. 
Puck.  Here,  villain  ;  drawn  and  ready.     Where  art  thou  ? 
Lys.  I  will  be  with  thee  straight. 
Puck.  Follow  me,  then, 

To  plainer  ground. 

[Exit  Lysander,  as  follounng  the  voice. 

Re-enter  Demetrius. 

Dem.  Lysander !   speak  again  : 

Thou  runaway,  thou  coward,  art  thou  fled? 
Speak !    In  some  bush  ?     Where  dost  thou  hide  thy 
head? 
Puck.  Thou  coward,  art  thou  bragging  to  the  stars, 
TeUing  the  bushes  that  thou  look'st  for  wars, 
And  wilt  not  come  ?     Come,  recreant ;    come,  thou 

child  ; 
I  '11  whip  thee  with  a  rod  ;    he  is  defiled  410 

That  draws  a  sword  on  thee. 
Dem.  Yea,  are  thou  there  ? 

Puck.  Follow  my  voice :   we  '11  try  no  manhood  here. 

[Exeunt. 
Re-enter  Lysander. 

Lys.  He  goes  before  me  and  still  dares  me  on : 
When  I  come  where  he  calls,  then  he  is  gone. 
The  villain  is  much  lighter-heel'd  than  I : 
I  follow'd  fast,  but  faster  he  did  fly  ; 
That  fallen  am  I  in  dark  uneven  way, 
And  here  will  rest  me.   [Lies  down.l     Come,  thou 

gentle  day ! 
For  if  but  once  thou  show  me  thy  grey  light, 
I  '11  find  Demetrius,  and  revenge  this  spite.      [Sleeps. 

7Z 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  A  MIDSUMMER^ 

Re-enter  Puck  and  Demetrius. 

Fuck.  Ho,  ho,  ho!    Coward,  why  comest  thou  not?    421 

Dem.  Abide  me,  if  thou  darest ;    for  well  I  wot 
Thou  runn'st  before  me,  shifting  every  place, 
And  darest  not  stand,  nor  look  me  in  the  face. 
Where  art  thou  now  ? 

Puck.  Come  hither :   I  am  here. 

Dem.  Nay,  then,  thou  mock'st  me.     Thou  shalt  buy  this 
dear. 
If  ever  I  thy  face  by  daylight  see : 
Now,  go  thy  way.    Faintness  constraineth  me 
To  measure  out  my  length  on  this  cold  bed. 
By  day's  approach  look  to  be  visited.  430 

[Lies  down  and  sleeps. 

Re-enter  Helena. 

Hel.  O  weary  night,  O  long  and  tedious  night, 

Abate  thy  hours !    Shine  comforts  from  the  east. 
That  I  may  back  to  Athens  by  daylight, 

From  these  that  my  poor  company  detest : 
And  sleep,  that  sometimes  shuts  up  sorrow's  eye. 
Steal  me  awhile  from  mine  own  company. 

[Lies  dozvn  and  sleeps. 
Puck.  Yet  but  three  ?    Come  one  more ; 

Two  of  both  kinds  makes  up  four. 
Here  she  comes,  curst  and  sad : 
Cupid  is  a  knavish  lad,  440 

Thus  to  make  poor  females  mad. 

Re-enter  Hermia. 

Her.  Never  so  weary,  never  so  in  woe ; 

Bedabbled  with  the  dew,  and  torn  with  briers ; 


NIGHT*S  DREAM  Act  III.  Sc.  li. 

I  can  no  further  crawl,  no  further  go ; 

My  legs  can  keep  no  pace  with  my  desires. 
Here  will  I  rest  me  till  the  break  of  day. 
Heavens  shield  Lysander,  if  they  mean  a  fray ! 

[Lies  down  and  sleeps. 
Puck,  On  the  ground 

Sleep  sound: 

I  '11  apply  450 

To  your  eye, 
Gentle  lover,  remedy. 

[Squeezing  the  juice  on  Lysander's  eye. 
When  thou  wakest, 
Thou  takest 
True  delight 
In  the  sight 
Of  thy  former  lady's  eye : 
And  the  country  proverb  known, 
That  every  man  should  take  his  own, 
In  your  waking  shall  be  shown  :  460 

Jack  shall  have  Jill ; 
Nought  shall  go  ill ; 
The  man  shall  have  his  mare  again,  and  all  shall  be 
well.  [Exit. 


75 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER^ 

ACT  FOURTH. 

Scene  I. 

The  same. 

Lysander,  Demetrius,  Helena,  and  Hermia,  lying  asleep. 

Enter  Titania  and  Bottom ;  Peasehlossom,  Cobweb,  Moth, 
Mustardseed,  and  other  Fairies  attending;  Oberon 
behind  unseen. 

Tita.  Come,  sit  thee  down  upon  this  flowery  bed, 
While  I  thy  amiable  cheeks  do  coy. 
And  stick  musk-roses  in  thy  sleek  smooth  head, 
And  kiss  thy  fair  large  ears,  my  gentle  joy. 

Bot.  Where's  Peasehlossom? 

Peas»  Ready. 

Bot.  Scratch    my    head,     Peasehlossom.      Where 's 
Mounsieur  Cobweb? 

Cob.  Ready. 

Bot.  Mounsieur  Cobweb,  good  mounsieur,  get  you  lo 
your  weapons  in  your  hand,  and  kill  me  a  red- 
hipped  humble-bee  on  the  top  of  a  thistle ;  and, 
good  mounsieur,  bring  me  the  honey-bag.  Do 
not  fret  yourself  too  much  in  the  action,  moun- 
sieur; and,  good  mounsieur,  have  a  care  the 
honey-bag  break  not ;  I  would  be  loath  to  have 
you  overflown  with  a  honey-bag,  signior. 
Where's  Mounsieur  Mustardseed? 

Mus.  Ready. 

Bot,  Give  me  your  neaf,  Mounsieur  Mustardseed.  20 

Pray   you,    leave   your   courtesy,    good   moun- 
sieur. 

76 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

Mtis.  What 's  your  will  ? 

Bot.  Nothing,  good  mounsieur,  but  to  help  Cavalery 
Cobweb  to  scratch.  I  must  to  the  barber's, 
mounsieur ;  for  methinks  I  am  marvellous  hairy 
about  the  face ;  and  I  am  such  a  tender  ass,  if 
my  hair  do  but  tickle  me,  I  must  scratch. 

Tita.  What,  wilt  thou  hear  some  music,  my  sweet 

love  ?  30 

Bot.  I  have  a  reasonable  good  ear  in  music.  Let 's 
have  the  tongs  and  the  bones. 

Tita.  Or  say,  sweet  love,  what  thou  desirest  to  eat. 

Bot.  Truly,  a  peck  of  provender:  I  could  munch 
your  good  dry  oats.  Alethinks  I  have  a  great  de- 
sire to  a  bottle  of  hay :  good  hay,  sweet  hay,  hath 
no  fellow. 

Tita.  I  have  a  venturous  fairy  that  shall  seek 

The  squirrel's  hoard,  and  fetch  thee  new  nuts.        40 

Bot.  I  had  rather  have  a  handful  or  two  of  dried 
peas. 

But,  I  pray  you,  let  none  of  your  people  stir  me : 
I  have  an  exposition  of  sleep  come  upon  me. 

Tita.  Sleep  thou,  and  I  will  wind  thee  in  my  arms. 
Fairies,  be  gone,  and  be  all  ways  away. 

[Exeunt  Fairies. 
So  doth  the  woodbine  the  sweet  honeysuckle 
Gently  entwist ;  the  female  ivy  so 
Enrings  the  barky  fingers  of  the  elm. 
O,  how  I  love  thee !  how  I  dote  on  thee ! 

[They  sleep. 

Enter  Puck. 

Obe.   [Advancing]   Welcome,    good    Robin.     See'st     50 
thou  this  sweet  sight  ? 

77 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER* 

Her  dotage  now  I  do  begin  to  pity : 

For,  meeting  her  of  late  behind  the  wood, 

Seeking  sweet  favours  for  this  hateful  fool, 

I  did  upbraid  her,  and  fall  out  with  her ; 

For  she  his  hairy  temples  then  had  rounded 

With  coronet  of  fresh  and  fragrant  flowers ; 

And  that  same  dew,  which  sometime  on  the  buds 

Was  wont  to  swell,  like  round  and  orient  pearls. 

Stood  now  within  the  pretty  flowerets'  eyes,  60 

Like  tears,  that  did  their  own  disgrace  bewail. 

When  I  had  at  my  pleasure  taunted  her, 

And  she  in  mild  terms  begg'd  my  patience, 

I  then  did  ask  of  her  her  changeling  child ; 

Which  straight  she  gave  me,  and  her  fairy  sent 

To  bear  him  to  my  bower  in  fairy  land. 

And  now  I  have  the  boy,  I  will  undo 

This  hateful  imperfection  of  her  eyes : 

And,  gentle  Puck,  take  this  transformed  scalp 

From  off  the  head  of  this  Athenian  swain ;  70 

That,  he  awaking  when  the  other  do, 

May  all  to  Athens  back  again  repair, 

And  think  no  more  of  this  night's  accidents, 

But  as  the  fierce  vexation  of  a  dream. 

But  first  I  will  release  the  fairy  queen. 

Be  as  thou  wast  wont  to  be ; 

See  as  thou  wast  wont  to  see : 

Dian's  bud  o'er  Cupid's  flower 

Hath  such  force  and  blessed  power. 
Now,  my  Titania ;  wake  you,  my  sweet  queen.        80 
Tita,  My  Oberon !   what  visions  have  I  seen ! 

Methought  I  was  enamour'd  of  an  ass. 
Obe.    There  lies  your  love. 

78 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

Tita.  How  came  these  things  to  pass? 

O,  how  mine  eyes  do  loathe  his  visage  now ! 
Ohe,  Silence  awhile.     Robin,  take  off  this  head. 
Titania,  music  call ;  and  strike  more  dead 
Than  common  sleep  of  all  these  five  the  sense. 
Tita.  Music,  ho !  music,  such  as  charmeth  sleep ! 

[Music,  still. 
Puck.  Now,  when  thou  wakest,  with  thine  own  fool's  eyes 

peep. 
Ohe.  Sound  music!     Come,  my  queen,  take  hands  with 
me,  90 

And  rock  the  ground  whereon  these  sleepers  be. 
Now  thou  and  I  are  new  in  amity. 
And  will  to-morrow  midnight  solemnly 
Dance  in  Duke  Theseus'  house  triumphantly, 
And  bless  it  to  all  fair  prosperity : 
There  shall  the  pairs  of  faithful  lovers  be 
Wedded,  with  Theseus,  all  in  jollity. 
Puck.  Fairy  king,  attend,  and  mark: 

I  do  hear  the  morning  lark. 
Ohe.  Then,  my  queen,  in  silence  sad,  100 

Trip  we  after  night's  shade : 
We  the  globe  can  compass  soon, 
Swifter  than  the  wandering  moon. 
Tita.  Come,  my  lord;   and  in  our  flight. 

Tell  me  how  it  came  this  night. 
That  I  sleeping  here  was  found 
With  these  mortals  on  the  ground.      [Exeunt. 
[Horns  winded  within. 

Enter  Theseus,  Hippolyta,  Egeus,  and  train. 

The.  Go,  one  of  you,  find  out  the  forester  ; 

79 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

For  now  our  observation  is  perform'd ; 
And  since  we  have  the  vaward  of  the  day,  no 

My  love  shall  hear  the  music  of  my  hounds. 
Uncouple  in  the  western  valley ;  let  them  go : 
Dispatch,  I  say,  and  find  the  forester. 

[Exit  an  Attend, 
We  will,  fair  queen,  up  to  the  mountain's  top, 
And  mark  the  musical  confusion 
Of  hounds  and  echo  in  conjunction. 

Hip.  I  was  with  Hercules  and  Cadmus  once, 

When  in  a  wood  of  Crete  they  bay'd  the  bear 

With  hounds  of  Sparta :  never  did  I  hear 

Such  gallant  chiding ;  for,  besides  the  groves,        120 

The  skies,  the  fountains,  every  region  near 

Seem'd  all  one  mutual  cry :  I  never  heard 

So  musical  a  discord,  such  sweet  thunder. 

The.  My  hounds  are  bred  out  of  the  Spartan  kind, 
So  flew'd,  so  sanded ;  and  their  heads  are  hung 
With  ears  that  sweep  away  the  morning  dew  ; 
Crook-knee'd,  and  dew-lapp'd  like  Thessalian  bulls ; 
Slow  in  pursuit,  but  match'd  in  mouth  like  bells, 
Each  under  each.    A  cry  more  tuneable 
Was  never  hoUa'd  to,  nor  cheer'd  with  horn,  130 

In  Crete,  in  Sparta,  nor  in  Thessaly : 
Judge  when  you  hear.    But,  soft !   what  nymphs  are 
these? 

Ege.  My  lord,  this  is  my  daughter  here  asleep ; 
And  this,  Lysander ;  this  Demetrius  is ; 
This  Helena,  old  Nedar's  Helena: 
I  wonder  of  their  being  here  together. 

The.    No  doubt  they  rose  up  early  to  observe 
The  rite  of  May ;  and,  hearing  our  intent, 
Came  here  in  grace  of  our  solemnity. 
80 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

But  speak,  Egeus ;  is  not  this  the  day  140 

That  Hermia  should  give  answer  of  her  choice  ? 

Ege.  It  is,  my  lord. 

The.  Go,  bid  the  huntsmen  wake  them  with  their  horns. 
[Horns  and  shout  within,    Lys.,  Deni., 
Hel,  and  Her.,  wake  and  start  up. 
Good  morrow,  friends.    Saint  Valentine  is  past : 
Begin  these  wood-birds  but  to  couple  now  ? 

Lys.  Pardon,  my  lord. 

The.  I  pray  you  all,  stand  up. 

I  know  you  two  are  rival  enemies : 
How  comes  this  gentle  concord  in  the  world. 
That  hatred  is  so  far  from  jealousy, 
To  sleep  by  hate,  and  fear  no  enmity  ?  II 50 

Lys.  My  lord,  I  shall  reply  amazedly. 

Half  sleep,  half  waking :  but  as  yet,  I  swear, 

I  cannot  truly  say  how  I  came  here ; 

But,  as  I  think, — for  truly  would  I  speak. 

And  now  I  do  bethink  me,  so  it  is, — 

I  came  with  Hermia  hither :  our  intent 

Was  to  be  gone  from  Athens,  where  we  might. 

Without  the  peril  of  the  Athenian  law. 

Ege.  Enough,  enough,  my  lord ;  you  have  enough : 

I  beg  the  law,  the  law,  upon  his  head.  160 

They  would  have  stolen  away ;  they  would,  Demetrius, 
Thereby  to  have  defeated  you  and  me, 
You  of  your  wife  and  me  of  my  consent, 
Of"  my  consent  that  she  should  be  your  wife. 

Dem.  My  lord,  fair  Helen  told  me  of  their  stealth. 
Of  this  their  purpose  hither  to  this  wood ; 
And  I  in  fury  hither  follow'd  them, 
Fair  Helena  in  fancy  following  me. 
81 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

But,  my  good  lord,  I  wot  not  by  what  power, — 

But  by  some  power  it  is, — my  love  to  Hermia,        170 

Melted  as  the  snow,  seems  to  me  now 

As  the  remembrance  of  an  idle  gaud, 

Which  in  my  childhood  I  did  dote  upon ; 

And  all  the  faith,  the  virtue  of  my  heart, 

The  object  and  the  pleasure  of  mine  tye, 

Is  only  Helena.    To  her,  my  lord. 

Was  I  betroth'd  ere  I  saw  Hermia : 

But,  like  in  sickness,  did  I  loathe  this  food ; 

But,  as  in  health,  come  to  my  natural  taste, 

Now  I  do  wish  it,  love  it,  long  for  it,  180 

And  will  for  evermore  be  true  to  it. 
The.  Fair  lovers,  you  are  fortunately  met : 

Of  this  discourse  we  more  will  hear  anon. 

Egeus,  I  will  overbear  your  will  ; 

For  in  the  temple,  by  and  by,  with  us 

These  couples  shall  eternally  be  knit : 

And,  for  the  morning  now  is  something  worn. 

Our  purposed  hunting  shall  be  set  aside. 

Away  with  us  to  Athens !  three  and  three, 

We  '11  hold  a  feast  in  great  solemnity.  190 

Come,  Hippolyta. 

[Exeunt  The.,  Hip.,  Ege.,  and  train. 
Deni.  These  things  seem  small  and  undistinguishable, 

Like  far-off  mountains  turned  into  clouds. 
Her.  Methinks  I  see  these  things  with  parted  eye. 

When  every  thing  seems  double. 
Hel.  So  methinks : 

And  I  have  found  Demetrius  like  a  jewel, 

Mine  own,  and  not  mine  own. 
Dem.  Are  you  sure 

82 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

That  we  are  awake  ?    It  seems  to  me 

That  yet  we  sleep,  we  dream.    Do  not  you  think 

The  Duke  was  here,  and  bid  us  follow  him  ?  200 

Her.  Yea ;  and  my  father. 

Hel.  And  Hippolyta. 

Lys.  And  he  did  bid  us  follow  to  the  temple. 

Dent.  Why,  then,  we  are  awake :  let 's  follow  him ; 

And  by  the  way  let  us  recount  our  dreams.     {Exeunt. 

Bot.  [Azvaking]  When  my  cue  comes,  call  me,  and  I 
will  answer :  my  next  is,  ^  Most  fair  Pyramus/ 
Heigh-ho!  Peter  Quince!  Flute,  the  bellows- 
mender  !  Snout,  the  tinker !  Starveling !  God  's 
my  life,  stolen  hence,  and  left  me  asleep !  I  have 
had  a  most  rare  vision.  I  have  had  a  dream,  past  210 
the  wit  of  man  to  say  what  dream  it  was :  man  is 
but  an  ass,  if  he  go  about  to  expound  this  dream. 
Methought  I  was — there  is  no  man  can  tell  what. 
Methought  I  was, — and  methought  I  had, — but 
man  is  but  a  patched  fool,  if  he  will  offer  to  say 
what  methought  I  had.  The  eye  of  man  hath 
not  heard,  the  ear  of  man  hath  not  seen,  man's 
hand  is  not  able  to  taste,  his  tongue  to  conceive, 
nor  his  heart  to  report,  what  my  dream  was.  I 
will  get  Peter  Quince  to  write  a  ballad  of  this  220 
dream :  it  shall  be  called  Bottom's  Dream,  be- 
cause it  hath  no  bottom ;  and  I  will  sing  it  in  the 
latter  end  of  a  play,  before  the  Duke :  peradven- 
ture,  to  make  it  the  more  gracious,  I  shall  sing 
it  at  her  death.  [Exit. 


S2 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ii.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

Scene  II. 

Athens.    Quince's  house. 
Enter  Quince,  Flute,  Snout,  and  Starveling. 

Quin.  Have  you  sent  to  Bottom's  house  ?  is  he  come 

home  yet? 
Star.  He  cannot  be  heard  of.     Out  of  doubt  he  is 

transported. 
Flu.  If  he  come  not,  then  the  play  is  marred :  it  goes 

not  forward,  doth  it  ? 
Quin.  It  is  not  possible :   you  have  not  a  man  in  all 

Athens  able  to  discharge  Pyramus  but  he. 
Flu.  No,  he  hath  simply  the  best  wit  of  any  handi- 
craft man  in  Athens.  lo 
Quin.  Yea,  and  the  best  person  too ;  and  he  is  a  very 

paramour  for  a  sweet  voice. 
Flu.  You  must  say  '  paragon  ' :   a  paramour  is,  God 

bless  us,  a  thing  of  naught. 

Enter  Snug. 

Snug.  Masters,  the  Duke  is  coming  from  the  temple, 
and  there  is  two  or  three  lords  and  ladies  more 
married :  if  our  sport  had  gone  forward,  we  had 
all  been  made  men. 

Flu.  O  sweet  bully  Bottom !  Thus  hath  he  lost  six- 
pence a  day  during  his  life;  he  could  not  have  20 
scaped  sixpence  a  day:  an  the  Duke  had  not 
given  him  sixpence  a  day  for  playing  Pyramus, 
I  '11  be  hanged ;  he  would  have  deserved  it :  six- 
pence a  day  in  Pyramus,  or  nothing. 

Enter  Bottom. 
Bot.  Where  are  these  lads  ?  where  are  these  hearts  ? 

84 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

Quin.  Bottom  !    O  most  courageous  day !     O  most 
happy  hour ! 

Bot.  Masters,  I  am  to  discourse  wonders :    but  ask 
me  not  what;    for  if  I  tell  you,  I  am  no  true 
Athenian.     I  will  tell  you  every  thing,  right  as     30 
it  fell  out. 

Quin.  Let  us  hear,  sweet  Bottom. 

Bot.  Not  a  word  of  me.  All  that  I  will  tell  you  is, 
that  the  Duke  hath  dined.  Get  your  apparel 
together,  good  strings  to  your  beards,  new  rib- 
bons to  your  pumps;  meet  presently  at  the 
palace ;  every  man  look  o'er  his  part ;  for  the 
short  and  the  long  is,  our  play  is  preferred.  In 
any  case,  let  Thisby  have  clean  linen;  and  let 
not  him  that  plays  the  lion  pare  his  nails,  for  40 
they  shall  hang  out  for  the  lion's  claws.  And, 
most  dear  actors,  eat  no  onions  nor  garlic,  for  we 
are  to  utter  sweet  breath;  and  I  do  not  doubt 
but  to  hear  them  say,  it  is  a  sweet  comedy.  No 
more  words  :  away !   go,  away !  [Exeunt 

ACT  FIFTH. 
Scene  I. 

Athens.     The  palace  of  Theseus. 

Enter  Theseus,  Hip  poly  ta,  Philostrate,  Lords,  and 
Attendants. 

Hip.  'Tis  strange,  my  Theseus,  that  these  lovers  speak  of. 
The.  More  strange  than  true :   I  never  may  believe 

These  antique  fables,  nor  these  fairy  toys. 

Lovers  and  madmen  have  such  seething  brains, 

85 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

Such  shaping  fantasies,  that  apprehend 

More  than  cool  reason  ever  comprehends. 

The  lunatic,  the  lover  and  the  poet 

Are  of  imagination  all  compact : 

One  sees  more  devils  than  vast  hell  can  hold, 

That  is,  the  madman  :  the  lover,  all  as  frantic,         lo 

Sees  Helen's  beauty  in  a  brow  of  Egypt : 

The  poet's  eye,  in  a  fine  frenzy  rolling. 

Doth  glance  from  heaven  to  earth,   from  earth  to 

heaven ; 
And  as  imagination  bodies  forth 
The  forms  of  things  unknown,  the  poet's  pen 
Turns  them  to  shapes,  and  gives  to  airy  nothing 
A  local  habitation  and  a  name. 
Such  tricks  hath  strong  imagination, 
That,  if  it  would  but  apprehend  some  joy. 
It  comprehends  some  bringer  of  that  joy;  20 

Or  in  the  night,  imagining  some  fear, 
'  How  easy  is  a  bush  supposed  a  bear ! 

Hip.  But  all  the  story  of  the  night  told  over, 
And  all  their  minds  transfigured  so  together. 
More  witnesseth  than  fancy's  images, 
And  grows  to  something  of  great  constancy ; 
But,  howsoever,  strange  and  admirable. 

The.  Here  come  the  lovers,  full  of  joy  and  mirth. 

Enter  Lysander,  Demetrius,  Hermia,  and  Helena. 

Joy,  gentle  friends !   joy  and  fresh  days  of  love 
Accompany  your  hearts ! 
Lys.  More  than  to  us  30 

Wait  in  your  royal  walks,  your  board,  your  bed ! 
The.  Come  now ;    what  masques,  what  dances  shall  we 
have, 

86 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

To  wear  away  this  long  age  of  three  hours 

Between  our  after-supper  and  bed-time? 

Where  is  our  usual  manager  of  mirth  ? 

What  revels  are  in  hand  ?    Is  there  no  play, 

To  ease  the  anguish  of  a  torturing  hour  ? 

Call  Philostrate. 
Phil.  Here,  mighty  Theseus. 

The.  Say,  what  abridgement  have  you  for  this  evening  ? 

What  masque  ?  what  music  ?    How  shall  we  beguile 

The  lazy  time,  if  not  with  some  delight  ?  41 

Phil.  There  is  a  brief  how  many  sports  are  ripe : 

Make  choice  of  which  your  highness  will  see  first. 

[Giving  a  paper. 
The.   [Reads]   The  battle  with  the  Centaurs,  to  be  sung 

By  an  Athenian  eunuch  to  the  harp. 

We  '11  none  of  that :  that  have  I  told  my  love. 

In  glory  of  my  kinsman  Hercules. 

[Reads]  The  riot  of  the  tipsy  Bacchanals, 

Tearing  the  Thracian  singer  in  their  rage. 

That  is  an  old  device ;  and  it  was  play'd  50 

When  I  from  Thebes  came  last  a  conqueror. 

[Reads]   The  thrice  three  Muses  mourning  for  the 
death 

Of  Learning,  late  deceased  in  beggary. 

That  is  some  satire,  keen  and  critical. 

Not  sorting  with  a  nuptial  ceremony. 

[Reads]   A  tedious  brief  scene  of  young  Pyramus 

And  his  love  Thisbe ;  very  tragical  mirth. 

Merry  and  tragical !   tedious  and  brief ! 

That  is,  hot  ice  and  wondrous  strange  snow. 

How  shall  we  find  the  concord  of  this  discord  ?        60 
Phil.  A  play  there  is,  my  lord,  some  ten  words  long, 

87 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

Which  is  as  brief  as  I  have  known  a  play ; 

But  by  ten  words,  my  lord,  it  is  too  long. 

Which  makes  it  tedious ;   for  in  all  the  play 

There  is  not  one  word  apt,  one  player  fitted : 

And  tragical,  my  noble  lord,  it  is ; 

For  Pyramus  therein  doth  kill  himself, 

Which,  when  I  saw  rehearsed,  I  must  confess, 

IMade  mine  eyes  water ;  but  more  merry  tears 

The  passion  of  loud  laughter  never  shed.  70 

The.  What  are  they  that  do  play  it  ? 

Phil  Hard-handed  men,  that  work  in  Athens  here, 
Which  never  labour'd  in  their  minds  till  now ; 
And  now  have  toil'd  their  unbreathed  memories 
With  this  same  play,  against  your  nuptial. 

The.  And  we  will  hear  it. 

Phil.  No,  my  noble  lord ; 

It  is  not  for  you :  I  have  heard  it  over, 
And  it  is  nothing,  nothing  in  the  world  ; 
Unless  you  can  find  sport  in  their  intents, 
Extremely  stretch'd  and  conn'd  with  cruel  pain,      80 
To  do  you  service. 

The.  I  will  hear  that  play ; 

For  never  anything  can  be  amiss. 
When  simpleness  and  duty  tender  it. 
Go,  bring  them  in :  and  take  your  places,  ladies. 

[Exit  Philostrate. 

Hip.  I  love  not  to  see  wretchedness  o'ercharged, 
And  duty  in  his  service  perishing. 

The.  Why,  gentle  sweet,  you  shall  see  no  such  thing. 

Hip.^  He  says  they  can  do  nothing  in  this  kind. 

The.  The  kinder  we,  to  give  them  thanks  for  nothing. 

Our  sport  shall  be  to  take  what  they  mistake :  90 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

And  what  poor  duty  cannot  do,  noble  respect 

Takes  it  in  might,  not  merit. 

Where  I  have  come,  great  clerks  have  purposed 

To  greet  me  with  premeditated  welcomes ; 

Where  I  have  seen  them  shiver  and  look  pale, 

Make  periods  in  the  midst  of  sentences. 

Throttle  their  practised  accent  in  their  fears, 

And,  in  conclusion,  dumbly  have  broke  off. 

Not  paying  me  a  welcome.     Trust  me,  sweet, 

Out  of  this  silence  yet  I  picked  a  welcome ;  loo 

And  in  the  modesty  of  fearful  duty 

I  read  as  much  as  from  the  rattling  tongue 

Of  saucy  and  audacious  eloquence. 

Love,  therefore,  and  tongue-tied  simplicity 

In  least  speak  most,  to  my  capacity. 

Re-enter  Philostrate, 

Phil.  So  please  your  Grace,  the  Prologue  is  address'd. 
The.  Let  him  approach.  [Flourish  of  trumpets. 

Enter  Quince  for  the  Prologue. 

Pro.  If  we  offend,  it  is  with  our  good  will. 

That  you  should  think,  we  come  not  to  offend. 
But  with  good  will.     To  show  our  simple  skill,     no 

That  is  the  true  beginning  of  our  end. 
Consider,  then,  we  come  but  in  despite. 

We  do  not  come,  as  minding  to  content  you. 
Our  true  intent  is.     All  for  your  delight, 

We  are  not  here.     That  you  should  here  repent 
you. 
The  actors  are  at  hand ;   and,  by  their  show. 
You  shall  know  all,  that  you  are  like  to  know, 

89 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

The.  This  fellow  doth  not  stand  upon  points. 

Lys.  He  hath  rid  his  prologue  like  a  rough  colt ;   he 

knows  not  the  stop.     A  good  moral,  my  lord:  120 
it  is  not  enough  to  speak,  but  to  speak  true. 

Hip.  Indeed  he  hath  played  on  his  prologue  like  a 
child  on  a  recorder ;  a  sound,  but  not  in  govern- 
ment. 

The.  His  speech  was  like  a  tangled  chain ;  nothing 
impaired,  but  all  disordered.    Who  is  next? 

Enter  Pyramus  and  Thishe,  Wall,  Moonshine,  and  Lion. 

Pro.  Gentles,  perchance  you  wonder  at  this  show ; 

But  wonder  on,  till  truth  make  all  things  plain. 
This  man  is  Pyramus,  if  you  would  know ; 

This  beauteous  lady  Thisby  is  certain.  130 

This  man,  with  lime  and  rough-cast,  doth  present 

Wall,  that  vile  Wall  which  did  these  lovers  sunder ; 
And  through  Wall's  chink,  poor  souls,  they  are  con- 
tent 

To  whisper.     At  the  which  let  no  man  wonder. 
This  man,  with  lanthorn,  dog,  and  bush  of  thorn, 

Presenteth  Moonshine ;   for,  if  you  will  know, 
By  moonshine  did  these  lovers  think  no  scorn 

To  meet  at  Ninus'  tomb,  there  to  woo. 
This  grisly  beast,  which  Lion  hight  by  name. 
The  trusty  Thisby,  coming  first  by  night,  140 

Did  scare  away,  or  rather  did  affright ; 
And,  as  she  fled,  her  mantle  she  did  fall. 

Which  Lion  vile  with  bloody  mouth  did  stain. 
Anon  comes  Pyramus,  sweet  youth  and  tall. 

And  finds  his  trusty  Thisby's  mantle  slain : 
Whereat,  with  blade,  with  bloody  blameful  blade, 

He  bravely  broach'd  his  boiling  bloody  breast ; 

90 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

And  Thisby,  tarrying  in  mulberry  shade, 

His  dagger  drew,  and  died.    For  all  the  rest, 
Let  Lion,  Moonshine,  Wall,  and  lovers  twain        150 
At  large  discourse,  while  here  they  do  remain.^ 

[Exeunt  Prologue,  Pyramus,  Thisbe, 
Lion,  and  Moonshine. 
The.  I  wonder  If  the  lion  be  to  speak. 
Dem.  No  wonder,  my  lord :  one  lion  may,  when  many 

asses  do. 
WalL  In  this  same  interlude  it  doth  befall 

That  I,  one  Snout  by  name,  present  a  wall ; 
And  such  a  wall,  as  I  would  have  you  think, 
That  had  in  it  a  crannied  hole  or  chink. 
Through  which  the  lovers,  Pyramus  and  Thisby, 
Did  whisper  often  very  secretly.  160 

This  loam,  this  rough-cast,  and  this  stone,  doth  show 
That  I  am  that  same  wall ;  the  truth  is  so : 
And  this  the  cranny  is,  right  and  sinister, 
Through  which  the  fearful  lovers  are  to  whisper. 
The,  Would  you  desire  lime  and  hair  to  speak  better? 
Dem.  It  is  the  wittiest  partition  that  ever  I  heard  dis- 
course, my  lord. 
The.  Pyramus  draws  near  the  wall :  silence ! 

Re-enter  Pyramus. 

Pyr.  O  grim-look'd  night !  O  night  with  hue  so  black ! 

0  night,  which  ever  art  when  day  is  not!  170 
O  night,  O  night !  alack,  alack,  alack, 

1  fear  my  Thisby's  promise  is  forgot ! 
And  thou,  O  wall,  O  sweet,  O  lovely  wall. 

That  stand'st  between   her    father's    ground    and 
mine ! 

91 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

Thou  wall,  O  wall,  O  sweet  and  lovely  wall, 

Show  me  thy  chink,  to  blink  through  with  mine 
eyne!  [Wall  holds  up  his  fingers. 

Thanks,  courteous  wall :    Jove  shield  thee  well  for 
this ! 
But  what  see  I  ?    No  Thisby  do  I  see. 
O  wicked  wall,  through  whom  I  see  no  bliss ! 

Cursed  be  thy  stones  for  thus  deceiving  me !      i8o 
The,  The  wall,  methinks,  being  sensible,  should  curse 

again. 
Pyr.  No,  in  truth,  sir,  he  should  not.  '  Deceiving  me  * 
is  Thisby's  cue :  she  is  to  enter  now,  and  I  am  to 
spy  her  through  the  wall.    You  shall  see,  it  will 
fall  pat  as  I  told  you.    Yonder  she  comes. 

Re-enter  Thisbe. 

This.  O  wall,  full  often  hast  thou  heard  my  moans, 
For  parting  my  fair  Pyramus  and  me ! 

My  cherry  lips  have  often  kiss'd  thy  stones,  190 

Thy  stones  with  lime  and  hair  knit  up  in  thee. 
Pyr.  I  see  a  voice :  now  will  I  to  the  chink, 

To  spy  an  I  can  hear  my  Thisby's  face. 

Thisby! 
This.  My  love  thou  art,  my  love  I  think. 
Pyr.  Think  what  thou  wilt,  I  am  thy  lover's  grace  ; 

And,  like  Limander,  am  I  trusty  still. 
This.  And  I  like  Helen,  till  the  Fates  me  kill. 
Pyr.  Not  Shafalus  to  Procrus  was  so  true. 
This.  As  Shafalus  to  Procrus,  I  to  you.  200 

Pyr.  O,  kiss  me  through  the  hole  of  this  vile  wall ! 
This.  I  kiss  the  wall's  hole,  not  your  lips  at  all. 
Pyr.  Wilt  thou  at  Ninny's  tomb  meet  me  straightway? 

92 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

This.  'Tide  life,  'tide  death,  I  come  without  delay. 

[Exeunt  Pyramiis  and  Thishe. 
Wall.  Thus  have  I,  wall,  my  part  discharged  so ; 

And,  being  done,  thus  wall  away  doth  go.  [Exit. 

The.  Now  is  the  mural  down  between  the  two  neigh- 
bours. 
Dem.  No  remedy,  my  lord,  when  walls  are  so  wilful 

to  hear  without  warning.  210 

Hip.  This  is  the  silliest  stuff  that  ever  I  heard. 
The.  The  best  in  this  kind  are  but  shadows ;  and  the 

worst  are  no  worse,  if  imagination  amend  them. 
Hip.  It  must  be  your  imagination  then,  and  not  theirs. 
The.  If  we  imagine  no  worse  of  them  than  they  of 

themselves,   they  may  pass   for  excellent  men. 

Here  come  two  noble  beasts  in,  a  man  and  a 

lion. 

Re-enter  Lion  and  Moonshine. 

Lion.  You,  ladies,  you,  whose  gentle  hearts  do  fear 

The  smallest  monstrous  mouse  that  creeps  on  floor, 

May  now  perchance  both  quake  and  tremble  here,  221 
When  lion  rough  in  wildest  rage  doth  roar. 

Then  know  that  I,  one  Snug  the  joiner,  n'am 

A  Hon-fell,  nor  else  no  lion's  dam  ; 

For,  if  I  should  as  lion  come  in  strife 

Into  this  place,  'twere  pity  on  my  life. 
The.  A  very  gentle  beast,  and  of  a  good  conscience. 
Dem.  The  very  best  at  a  beast,  my  lord,  that  e'er  I 

saw. 
Lys.  This   lion  is  a  very  fox  for  his  valour.  230 

The.  True ;  and  a  goose  for  his  discretion. 
Dem.  Not  so,  my  lord ;   for  his  valour  cannot  carry 

his  discretion ;  and  the  fox  carries  the  goose. 

93 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

The.  His   discretion,   I   am   sure,   cannot   carry  his 

valour;    for  the  goose  carries  not  the  fox.     It 

is  well :   leave  it  to  his  discretion,  and  let  us  lis- 
ten to  the  moon. 
Moon.  This  lanthorn  doth  the  horned  moon  present ; — 
Dem.  He  should  have  worn  the  horns  on  his  head. 
The.  He  is  no  crescent,  and  his  horns  are  invisible  240 

within  the  circumference. 
Moon.  This  lanthorn  doth  the  horned  moon  present ; 

Myself  the  man  i'  the  moon  do  seem  to  be. 
The,  This  is  the  greatest  error  of  all  the  rest:    the 

man  should  be  put  into  the  lantern.     How  is  it 

else  the  man  i'  the  moon  ? 
Dem.  He  dares  not  come  there  for  the  candle;    for, 

you  see,  it  is  already  in  snuff. 
Hip.  I  am  aweary  of  this  moon :    would  he  would 

change !  250 

The.  It  appears,  by  his  small  light  of  discretion,  that 

he  is  in  the  wane ;    but  yet,  in  courtesy,  in  all 

reason,  we  must  stay  the  time. 
Lys.  Proceed,  Aloon. 
Moon.  All  that  I  have  to  say,  is,  to  tell  you  that  the 

lanthorn  is  the  moon ;    I,  the  man  i'  the  moon ; 

this  thorn-bush,  my  thorn-bush;    and  this  dog, 

my  dog. 
Dem.  Why,  all  these  should  be  in  the  lantern ;  for  all 

these  are  in  the  moon.    But,  silence !  here  comes  260 

Thisbe. 

Re-enter  Thisbe. 

This.  This  is  old  Ninny's  tomb.    Where  is  my  love? 
Lion.  [Roaring]  Oh [Thisbe  runs  off. 

94 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

Dem.  Well  roared,  Lion. 
The.  Well  run,  Thisbe. 

Hip,  Well  shone,   Moon.     Truly,  the  moon   shines 
v^ith  a  good  grace. 

[The  Lion  shakes  Thisbe' s  mantle,  and  exit. 
The.  Well  moused,  Lion. 
Dem.  And  then  came  Pyramus. 
Lys.  And  so  the  lion  vanished.  270 

Re-enter  Pyramus. 

Pyr.  Sweet  Moon,  I  thank  thee  for  thy  sunny  beams ; 
I  thank  thee.  Moon,  for  shining  now  so  bright ; 
For,  by  thy  gracious,  golden,  glittering  gleams, 
I  trust  to  take  of  truest  Thisby  sight. 

But  stay,  O  spite ! 

But  mark,  poor  knight. 
What  dreadful  dole  is  here ! 

Eyes,  do  you  see  ? 

How  can  it  be  ? 
O  dainty  duck !    O  dear !  280 

Thy  mantle  good, 

What,  stain'd  with  blood! 
Approach,  ye  Furies  fell ! 

O  Fates,  come,  come, 

Cut  thread  and  thrum ; 
Quail,  crush,  conclude,  and  quell ! 

The.  This  passion,  and  the  death  of  a  dear  friend, 

would  go  near  to  make  a  man  look  sad. 
Hip.  Beshrew  my  heart,  but  I  pity  the  man. 
Pyr.  O  wherefore,  Xature,  didst  thou  lions  frame  ?       290 
Since  lion  vile  hath  here  deflower'd  my  dear : 

95 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER- 

Which  is — no,  no — which  was  the  fairest  dame 

That  Hved,  that  loved,  that  Hked,  that  look'd  with 
cheer. 

Come,  tears,  confound; 
Out,  sword,  and  wound 
The  pap  of  Pyramus ; 
Ay,  that  left  pap, 

Where  heart  doth  hop  :         [Stabs  himself. 
Thus  die  I,  thus,  thus,  thus . 

Now  am  I  dead,  300 

Now  am  I  fled ; 
My  soul  is  in  the  sky  : 

Tongue,  lose  thy  light ; 
Moon,  take  thy  flight :  [Exit  Moonshine. 
Now  die,  die,  die,  die,  die.  [Dies. 

Dem.  No  die,  but  an  ace,  for  him ;  for  he  is  but  one. 
Lys.  Less  than  an  ace,  man ;    for  he  is  dead ;   he  is 

nothing. 
The.  With  the  help  of  a  surgeon  he  might  yet  re- 
cover, and  prove  an  ass.  310 
Hip.  How  chance  Moonshine  is  gone  before  Thisbe 

comes  back  and  finds  her  lover  ? 
The.  She  will  find  him  by  starlight.    Here  she  comes ; 
and  her  passion  ends  the  play. 

Re-enter  Thisbe, 

Hip.  Methinks  she  should  not  use  a  long  one  for 
such  a  Pyramus :   I  hope  she  will  be  brief. 

Dem.  A  mote  will  turn  the  balance,  which  Pyramus, 
which  Thisbe,  is  the  better;  he  for  a  man,  God 
warrant  us  ;  she  for  a  woman,  God  bless  us. 

Lys.  She  hath  spied  him  already  with  those  sweet 

eyes.  320 

Dem.  And  thus  she  means,  videlicet : — 

96 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

This.  Asleep,  my  love? 

What,  dead,  my  dove? 
O  Pyramus,  arise ! 

Speak,  speak.    Quite  dumb? 

Dead,  dead?    A  tomb 
Must  cover  thy  sweet  eyes. 

These  Uly  lips, 

This  cherry  nose, 
These  yellow  cowslip  cheeks,  330 

Are  gone,  are  gone : 

Lovers,  make  moan : 
His  eyes  were  green  as  leeks. 

O  Sisters  Three, 

Come,  come  to  me. 
With  hands  as  pale  as  milk : 

Lay  them  in  gore. 

Since  you  have  shore 
With  shears  his  thread  of  silk. 

Tongue,  not  a  word :  34^ 

Come,  trusty  sword ; 
Come,  blade,  my  breast  imbrue :  [Stabs  herself. 

And,  farewell,  friends ; 

Thus  Thisby  ends : 
Adieu,  adieu,  adieu.  [Dies. 

The.  Moonshine  and  Lion  are  left  to  bury  the  dead. 

Dem.  Ay,  and  Wall  too. 

Bot.    [Starting  up]   No,  I  assure  you;    the  wall  is 

down  that  parted  their  fathers.     Will  it  please 

you  to  see  the  epilogue,  or  to  hear  a  Bergomask  350 

dance  between  two  of  our  company  ? 
The.  No  epilogue,  I  pray  you ;   for  your  play  needs 

no  excuse.    Never  excuse ;  for  when  the  players 

97 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER^ 

are   all   dead,   there   need  none  to  be  blamed. 

Marry,  if  he  that  writ  it  had  played  Pyramus 

and  hanged  himself  in  Thisbe's  garter,  it  would 

have  been  a  fine  tragedy :    and  so  it  is,  truly  ; 

and  very  notably  discharged.     But,  come,  your 

Bergomask :  let  your  epilogue  alone.     [A  dance. 

The  iron  tongue  of  midnight  hath  told  twelve :  360 

Lovers,  to  bed  ;  'tis  almost  fairy  time. 

I  fear  we  shall  out-sleep  the  coming  morn, 

As  much  as  we  this  night  have  overwatch'd. 

This  palpable-gross  play  hath  well  beguiled 

The  heavy  gait  of  night.     Sweet  friends,  to  bed. 

A  fortnight  hold  we  this  solemnity, 

In  nightly  revels  and  new  jollity.  [Exeunt. 

Enter  Puck. 

Puck.  Now  the  hungry  lion  roars. 

And  the  wolf  behowls  the  moon ; 
Whilst  the  heavy  ploughman  snores,  370 

All  with  weary  task  fordone. 
Now  the  wasted  brands  do  glow, 

Whilst  the  screech-owl,  screeching  loud. 
Puts  the  wretch  that  lies  in  woe 

In  remembrance  of  a  shroud. 
Now  it  is  the  time  of  night. 

That  the  graves,  all  gaping  wide, 
Every  one  lets  forth  his  sprite. 

In  the  church-way  paths  to  glide : 
And  we  fairies,  that  do  run  380 

By  the  triple  Hecate's  team. 
From  the  presence  of  the  sun. 

Following  darkness  like  a  dream, 
98 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

Now  are  frolic  :  not  a  mouse 
Shall  disturb  this  hallow'd  house : 
I  am  sent  with  broom  before, 
To  sweep  the  dust  behind  the  door. 

Enter  Oberon  and  Titania  with  their  train. 

Obe.  Through  the  house  give  glimmering  light, 

By  the  dead  and  drowsy  fire : 

Every  elf  and  fairy  sprite  390 

Hop  as  light  as  bird  from  brier ; 

And  this  ditty,  after  me, 

Sing,  and  dance  it  trippingly. 
Tifa.         First,  rehearse  your  song  by  rote, 

To  each  word  a  warbling  note : 

Hand  in  hand,  with  fairy  grace, 

Will  we  sing,  and  bless  this  place. 

[Song  and  dance. 
Obe,         Now,  until  the  break  of  day, 

Through  this  house  each  fairy  stray. 

To  the  best  bride-bed  will  we,  400 

Which  by  us  shall  blessed  be : 

And  the  issue  there  create 

Ever  shall  be  fortunate. 

So  shall  all  the  couples  three 

Ever  true  in  loving  be ; 

And  the  blots  of  Nature's  hand 

Shall  not  in  their  issue  stand ; 

Never  mole,  hare  lip,  nor  scar. 

Nor  mark  prodigious,  such  as  are 

Despised  in  nativity,  410 

Shall  upon  their  children  be. 

With  this  field-dew  consecrate. 

Every  fairy  take  his  gait ; 

99 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  A  MIDSUMMER. 

And  each  several  chamber  bless, 
Through  this  palace,  with  sweet  peace, 
Ever  shall  in  safety  rest, 
And  the  owner  of  it  blest. 
Trip  away ;   make  no  stay ; 
Meet  me  all  by  break  of  day. 

[Exeunt  Oberon,  Titania,  mid  train. 
Puck.       If  we  shadows  have  offended,  420 

Think  but  this,  and  all  is  mended. 
That  you  have  but  slumber'd  here. 
While  these  visions  did  appear. 
And  this  weak  and  idle  theme. 
No  more  yielding  but  a  dream. 
Gentles,  do  not  reprehend  : 
If  you  pardon,  we  will  mend. 
And,  as  I  am  an  honest  Puck, 
If  we  have  unearned  luck 

Now  to  scape  the  serpent's  tongue,  430 

We  will  make  amends  ere  long ; 
Else  the  Puck  a  liar  call : 
So,  good  night  unto  you  all. 
Give  me  your  hands,  if  we  be  friends. 
And  Robin  shall  restore  amends.  [Exit, 


NIGHT'S  DREAM 


Glossary. 


Abridgement,  an  entertainment 
to  while  away  the  time ;  V.  i. 

39- 
Aby,  pay  for;  III.  ii.  175. 
Adamant,  loadstone;  II.  i.  195. 


From  the  early  black-letter  edition  of 
the  Grease  Herball. 

Address' d,  ready ;  V.  i.  106. 

Admirable,  to  be  wondered  at; 
V.  i.  27. 

Advised;  '  be  advised  '  =  "  con- 
sider what  you  are  doing  "  ; 
I.  i.  46. 

Against,  in  preparation  for ;  V. 

i.  75. 
Aggravate ;    Bottom's    blunder 

for  "decrease";  I.  ii.  81. 
All,  fully;  II.  i.  157. 
An,  if;  I.  ii.  50. 
An  if,  if;  II.  ii.  153. 


Antique,  strange;  V.  i.  3. 
Approve,  prove;  II.  ii.  68. 
Apricocks,  apricots;  III.  i.  169. 
Argument,    subject    of    story; 

III.  ii.  242. 
Artificial,  skilled  in  art;  III.  ii. 

203. 
As,  that  as ;  I.  i.  42. 
Ask,  require ;  I.  ii.  24. 
Aunt,  old  dame;  II.  i.  51. 
Austerity,  strictness  of  life;  I. 

i.  90. 

Barm,  froth,  yeast;  II.  i.  38. 
Barren,  empty  headed;   III.  ii. 

13- 

Bated,  excepted ;  I.  i.  190. 

Beard,  the  prickles  on  the  ears 
of  corn;  II.  i.  95. 

Belike,  very  likely ;  I.  i.  130. 

Bellozi's-mender,  mender  of  the 
bellows  of  organs;  I.  ii.  41. 

Bergomask  dance,  a  rude 
clownish  dance  such  as  the 
people  of  the  town  Bergamo 
or  of  the  province  Berga- 
masco  were  wont  to  practise. 
"  Bergamo,  a  town  in  the 
Venetian  territory,  capital  of 
the  old  province  Bergamasco, 
whose  inhabitants  used  to  be 
ridiculed  as  clownish  "  ;  V. 
i.  351,  360. 

Beteem,   accord,    permit;    I.   i. 

131. 
Bill,  list;  I.  ii.  105. 


lOI 


Glossary 


A  MIDSUMMER= 


Blood,  passion;  I.  i.  68;  I.  i. 
74;   birth,   social   rank;    I.   i. 

135. 
Bolt,  arrow;  II.  i.  165. 
Bootless,  in  vain,  uselessly;  II. 

i.  2>7- 
Bosom,  heart;  I.  i.  27. 
Bottle,  bundle,  truss ;  IV.  i.  Z7- 
Bouncing,  imperious ;  II,  i.  70. 
Brave  touch,  noble  action;  III. 

ii.  70. 
Breath,  voice,  notes;  II.  i.  151. 
Brief,  short  statement ;  V.  i.  42. 
Brisky,  brisk;  III.  i.  97. 
Broach' d,   stabbed,   spitted;   V. 

i.  147. 
Bully,  comrade;  III.  i.  8. 
Buskin'd,   wearing  the   buskin, 

a  boot  with  high  heels,  worn 

by   hunters    and   huntresses; 

II.  i.  71. 

Canker-blossom,  the  worm  that 
eats  into  blossoms ;  III.  ii. 
282. 

Cankers,  worms;  II.  ii.  3. 

Capacity;  'to  my  c.,'  i.e.  "so 
far  as  I  am  able  to  under- 
stand" ;  V.  i.  105. 

Cavalery,  cavalero,  cavalier ; 
IV.  i.  24. 

Centaurs;  '  battle  with  the  c.,' 
an  allusion  to  the  attack 
made  on  Hercules  by  the 
Centaurs  when  he  w^s  in 
pursuit  of  the  Erymanthian 
boar;  the  battle  referred  to 
is  not  their  famous  contest 
with  the  Lapithse ;  V.  i.  44. 

Chance;  "how  c,"  i.e.  "how 
chances  it ";  I.  i.  129. 


Changeling,  a  child  substituted 

by    the    fairies    for    the    one 

stolen  by  them;  II.  i.  23. 
Cheek    by    jole,    i.e.    cheek    to 

cheek,   side  by   side ;    III.   ii. 

338. 
Cheer,  countenance;  III.  ii.  96; 

V.  i.  293. 
Chiding,  barking;  IV.  i.  120. 
Childing,    productive,     fertile; 

II.  i.  112. 
Church-way,     leading     to     the 

church;  V.  i.  380. 
Churl,  boor,  peasant;  II.  ii,  78. 
Clerk,  scholars;  V.  i.  93. 
Coil,    confusion,    ado;    III.    ii. 

339- 

Collied,  dark,  black;  I.  i.  145, 

Compact,  composed,  formed ; 
V,  i.  8. 

Compare  with,  try  to  rival;  II. 
ii.  99- 

Con,  learn  by  heart ;  I.  ii.  99. 

Concern,  accord  with,  befit;  I. 
i.  60. 

Condole,  probably  one  of  Bot- 
tom's blunders,  unless  per- 
haps used  in  the  sense  of 
lament ;  I.  ii.  26. 

Confusion,  ruin;  I.  i.  149. 

Consecrate,  consecrated;   V.   i. 

413- 
Constancy,    consistency;    V.    i, 

26. 
Contagious,   pestilential;    II.   i. 

90. 
Continents,  banks;  II.  i.  92. 
Courageous,  happy,   fortunate; 

IV.  ii.  26. 
Coy,  fondle ;  IV.  i.  2. 
Crazed  title,  a  title  with  a  flaw 

in  it ;  I.  i.  92. 


102 


NIGHT'S  DREAM 


Glossary 


Create,  created;  V.  i.  403. 
Critical,  censorious ;  V.  i.  54. 
Cry,   pack    of    hounds ;    IV.    i. 

129. 
Cupid's     Uower,      the     pansy, 

"  love-in-idleness  " ;  IV.  i.  78. 
Curst,  shrewish ;  III.  ii.  300. 
Cut    thread    and    thrum  =z  cut 

everything,     good     and     bad 

(vide   Thread  and  Thrum)  ; 

V.  i.  285. 

Dances  and  delight  =:  delight- 
ful dances ;  II.  i.  254. 

Darkling,  in  the  dark;  II.  ii. 
86. 

Dead,   deadly,    death-like;    III. 

ii-  57. 

Dear  expense,  a  privilege 
dearly  bought ;  I.  i.  249. 

Debate,  contention;  II.  i.  116. 

Defeated,  cheated;  IV.  i.  162. 

Defect,  Bottom's  blunder  for 
"  effect  "  ;  III.  i.  40. 

Derived;  'as  w^ell  derived '  = 
as  well-born ;  I.  i.  99. 

Devices,  plans,  projects;  I.  ii. 
104;  performance;  V.  i.  50. 

Dewberries,  the  fruit  of  the 
dewberry  bush;  III.  i.  170. 

Dewlap,  the  loose  skin  hang- 
ing from  the  throat  of  cattle ; 
here  used  for  "  neck  "  ;  II.  i. 
50;  '  dewlapp'd'  \  IV.  i.  127. 

Dian's  bud,  probably  the  bud  of 
the  Agnus  Castus  or  Chaste- 
tree  ;  "  the  vertue  of  this 
herbe  is  that  he  wyll  kepe 
man  and  woman  chaste " ; 
.IV.  i.  78. 

Discharge,  perform ;  I.  ii.  95 ; 
IV.  ii.  8. 


DisHgure,  to  obliterate ;  I.  i.  51. 

Disfigure,  Quince's  blunder  for 
"  figure  "  ;  III.  i.  61. 

Distemperature,  disorder  of 
the  elements ;  II.  i.  106. 

Dole,  grief;  V.  i.  277. 

Done;  "when  all  is  done,"  = 
when  all  is  said  and  done; 
III.  i.  16. 

Dowager,  a  widow  with  a  join- 
ture; I.  i.  5. 

Drawn,  with  drawn  sword; 
III.  ii.  402. 

Earthlier  happy,  happier  as  re- 
gards this  world;  I.  i.  76. 

Eat,  ate;  II.  ii.  149. 

Eglantine,  sweetbriar;  II.  i. 
252. 

Egypt;  'brow  of  E.'=the  brow 
of  a  gypsy  {i.e.  an  Egyp- 
tian) ;  V.  i.  II. 

Eight  and  six,  alternate  verses 
of  four  and  three  feet ;  the 
common  ballad  metre  of  the 
time;  III.  i.  25. 

Embarked  traders,  traders  em- 
barked upon  the  sea;  II.  i. 
127. 

Enforced,  forced,  violated;  III. 
i.  205. 

Enough;  'you  have  enough,' 
i.e.  you  have  heard  enough 
to  convict  him;  IV.  i.  159. 

Ercles  =  Hercules,  who^e 
twelve  labours  had  often 
formed  the  subject  of  dra- 
matic shows,  the  hero  resem- 
bling Herod  in  his  ranting; 
I.  ii.  28. 

Erezvhile,  a  little  while  ago ; 
III.  ii.  274. 


103 


Glossary 


A  MIDSUMMER= 


Estate  unto,  bestow  upon;  I.  i. 

98. 
Ever,  always;  I.  i.  150. 
Exposition;    Bottom's    blunder 

for  "  disposition  "  ;  IV.  i.  43. 
Extenuate,  mitigate,  relax;  I.  i. 

120. 

Faint,  pale ;  I.  i,  215. 

Fair,  fairness,  beauty;  I.  i.  182. 

Fair,  kindly;  II.  i.  199. 

Fall,  let  fall,  drop;  V.  i.  142. 

Fancy,  love;  I.  i.  155;  IV.  i. 
168. 

Fancy-free,  free  from  the  pow- 
er of  love ;  II.  i.  164. 

Fancy-sick,  sick  for  love ;  III. 
ii.  96. 

Favour,  features ;  I.  i.  186. 

Favours,  love-tokens ;  II.  i.  12 ; 
nosegays   of   flowers ;    IV.    i. 

53- 
Fell;   *  passing   fell,'   extremely 

angry;  II.  i.  20. 
Fellow,  match,  equal ;  IV.  i.  38. 
Figure,  typify;  I.  i.  237. 
Fire,  will  of  the  wisp ;   III.  i. 

112. 
Flew'd,  having  an  overhanging 

lip  on  the  upper  jaw;  IV.  i. 

125. 
Floods,  waters ;  II.  i.  103. 
Flout,  mock  at;  II.  ii.  128. 
Fond,  foolish;  II.  ii.  88. 
For  the  candle,  because  of  the 

c. ;  V.  i.  247. 
Force;    *  of    force '  =  perforce  ; 

III.  ii.  40. 
Fordone,  exhausted ;  V.  i.  372. 
Forgeries,  idle   inventions ;    II. 

i.  81. 
Forth,  out  of,  from;  I.  i.  164. 


For  that,  because;  II.  i.  220. 

Forty,  used  as  an  indefinite 
number;  II.  i.  176. 

French  crown  color,  light  yel- 
low, the  color  of  the  gold  of 
the  French  crown ;  I.  ii,  94. 

Gallant  =  "  gallantly  "  (which 
the  Folios  read)  ;  I.  ii.  23. 

Gawds,  trifles,  trinkets ;  I.  i.  33. 

Generally;  Bottom's  blunder 
for  "  severally  "  ;  I.  ii.  2. 

Glance  at,  hint  at;  II.  i.  75. 

Gleek,  jest,  scoff;  III.  i.  151. 

Go  about,  attempt;  IV.  i.  211. 

Gossip's  bowl,  originally  a 
christening  cup ;  thence  ap- 
plied to  a  drink  usually  pre- 
pared for  christening  feasts ; 
its  ingredients  were  ale, 
spice,  sugar,  and  roasted 
crabs  (i.e.  crab-apples;  II. 
i.  47. 

Government,  control ;  '  in  gov- 
ernment '  =  under  control ; 
V.  i.  123. 

Grace,  favour  granted ;  II.  ii. 
89. 

Grim-look' d,  grim-looking;  V. 
i.  169. 

Grow  to  a  point,  come  to  the 
point;  I.  ii.  10. 

Hands;  '  give  me  your  hands,' 
applaud   by   clapping ;     V.    i. 

435. 
Head;   '  to   his   head  '  =  to   his 

face ;  I.  i.  106. 
Hearts,  good   fellows ;    IV.   ii. 

25. 
Helen,  a  blunder  for  "  Hero  " ; 
V.  i.  198. 


104 


NIGHT'S  DREAM 


Glossary 


Hempen  homespuns,  coarse 
fellows  (rude  mechanicals)  ; 
III.  i.  79. 

Henchman,  page,  attendant;  II. 
i.  121. 


From  an  engraving  [temp.  Charles  I.) 
in  the  Bagford  collection. 

Hight,  is  called;  V.  i.  I39- 

Horned  moon,  used  perhaps 
quibblingly  with  reference  to 
the  material  of  Moonshine's 
lanthorn ;  V.  i.  242. 

Human,  humane,  courteous ; 
II.  ii.  57. 

Human  mortals,  men,  as  distin- 
guished from  fairies,  who 
were  considered  mortal, 
though  not  human;  II.  i.  loi. 

Imbrue,  stain  with  blood ;  V.  i. 

343- 
Immediately,    purposely;    I.    i. 

45. 
Impeach,   bring   into   question; 

II.  i.  214. 

In  =  on  ;  II.  i.  85. 
Incorporate,    made    one    body; 

III.  ii.  208. 


Injurious,  insulting;  III.  ii.  195. 
Intend,  pretend;  III.  ii.  333- 
Interchained,   bound   together; 

II.  ii.  49. 

Juvenal,  juvenile,  youth;  III.  i. 
97. 

Kind;  '  in  this  kind,'  in  this  re- 
spect ;  I.  i.  54. 
Knacks  =  knick-knacks  ;    I.    i. 

34- 
Knot-grass;  'hindering  k.'  was 
formerly  believed  to  have  the 
power  of  checking  the 
growth  of  children ;  III.  ii. 
329- 

Lakin;  'by  'r  lakin,'  i.e.  by  our 
ladykin,  or  little  lady,  i.e.  the 
Virgin  Mary;   III.  i.  14. 

Latch' d,    moistened,    anointed ; 

III.  ii.  36. 

Leave,  give  up  ;  II.  i.  197. 

Leviathan,  whale;  II.  i.  174. 

Limander,  a  blunder  for  "  Le- 
ander  "  ;  V.  i.  197. 

Lion-fell,  lion's  skin  (but  cp. 
Note)  ;  V.  i.  224. 

Loh,  buffoon,  clown ;  II.  i.  16. 

Lode-star,  the  leading  star,  the 
polar  star;  I.  i.  183. 

Lordship;  'unto  his  lordship, 
whose,'  etc.  =  unto  the  gov- 
ernment of  him,  to  whose, 
etc.;    I.    i.   81. 

Lose,  forget;  I.  i.  114. 

Love-in-idleness,  the  hearts- 
ease, or  pansy,  called  "  Cu- 
pid's flower  " ;  II.  i.  168. 

Loves;  '  of  all  loves,'  for  love's 
sake;  II.  ii.  154. 


105 


Glossary 


A  MIDSUMMER' 


Luscious,  delicious,  sweet;  II. 
i.  251. 

Make  mouths  upott  :="  make 
faces  at,  mock  at " ;  III.  ii. 
238. 

May,  can ;  V.  i.  2. 

Mazed,  perplexed;  II.  i.  113. 

Mazes,  "  figures  marked  out  on 
village  greens  for  rustic 
sports,  such  as  the  game 
called  running  the  figure  of 
eight"  ;  II.  i.  99. 

Means,  moans ;  V.  i.  322. 

Mechanicals,  working-men ; 
III.  ii.  9. 

Mimic,  actor;  III.  ii.  19. 

Minding,  intending;  V.  i.  113. 

Minimus,  tiny  creature;  III.  ii. 

329- 

Misgraffed,  grafted  on  a  wrong 
tree;  I.  i.  137. 

Misprised,  mistaken;  III.  ii.  74. 

Alisprision,  mistake ;  III.  ii.  90. 

Momentany,  momentary,  last- 
ing a  moment ;  I.  i.  143. 

Morning's  love,  i.e.  Cephalus; 
III.  ii.  389. 

Moused,  torn  in  pieces,  as  a  cat 
worries  a  mouse ;  V.  i.  268. 

Mouth,  sound;  IV.  i.  128. 

Murrion  =  infected  with  mur- 
rain, a  disease  among  cattle ; 
II.  i.  97. 

Musk-rose,  described  in  Ge- 
rarde's  Herbal,  as  "  a  flower 
of  a  white  colour,"  with 
"  certaine  yellow  seedes  in 
the  middle  ...  of  most 
writers  reckoned  among  the 
wilde  Roses";  II.  i.  252. 


Naught;  "  a  thing  of  naught,"  a 
worthless  thing;  IV.  ii.  14. 

Neaf,  fist;  IV.  i.  20. 

Nearly  that  concerns  =  that 
nearly  c. ;  I.  i,  126, 

Neeze  =  sneeze  ;  II.  i.  56. 

Next,  nearest,  first ;  III.  ii.  2. 

Night-rule,  night  revel;  III.  ii. 
5- 

Nine  men's  morris,  "a  plat  of 
green  turf  cut  into  a  sort  of 
chess  board,  for  the  rustic 
youth  to  exercise  their  skill 
upon.  The  game  was  called 
'  nine  men's  morris '  (or 
'  merrils,'  i.e.  '  counters  '  or 
*  pawns  ')  because  the  players 
had  each  nine  men  which 
they  moved  along  the  lines 
cut  in  the  ground — a  dia- 
gram of  three  squares,  one 
within  the  other — until  one 
side  had  t-aken  or  penned  up 
all  those  on  the  other  " ;  II. 
i.  98. 


r 

^ 

( 

;    .  T 

\                  1 

\    / 

I 

— { 

0 

* 

0 

'  ■    1 

i 

) 

From  an  engraving  by  F.  W.  Fairholt. 

Ninus,  the  supposed  founder  of 
Nineveh,  the  husband  of 
Semiramis,  Queen  of  Baby- 
lon; V.  i.  138. 


106 


NIGHT'S  DREAM 


Glossary 


Nole,  noddle,  head;  III.  ii.  17. 

None ;  *  I  will  none,'  i.e.  "  noth- 
ing to  do  with  her,  none  of 
her";  III.  ii.  169. 

Obscenely;  Bottom's  blunder 
for   (?)   seemly;  I.  ii.  108. 

Observance;  *to  do  o.  to  a 
morn  of  May,'  i.e.  "  to  ob- 
serve the  rights  of  May- 
day"; I.  i.  167. 

Observation  =  observance  of 
May-day;  IV.  i.  109. 

Of,  by;  II.  ii.   134;  for,  III.  i. 

44. 
On;    "fond    on,"    i.e.    "doting 

on  ";  II.  i.  266. 
On  =  of ;  V.  i.  227. 
Orange-tawny,  dark  yellow ;  I. 

ii.  93; 
Orbs,  rings  of  rich  green  grass 

thought  to  be  caused  by  the 

fairies ;  II.  i.  9. 
Original  =  originators  ;     II.     i. 

117. 
Other,  others ;  IV.  i.  71. 
Omkc^,  a  kind  of  lynx  ;    II.  ii.  30. 
Ousel,  blackbird;  III.  i.  128. 
Overbear,  overrule ;  IV.  i.  184. 
Owe,  own ;  II.  ii.  79. 
Oxlips,  a  kind  of  cowslip  not 

often  found  wild;  II.  i.  250. 

Pageant,  show,  exhibition;  III. 

ii.  114. 
Palpable-gross,  palpably  gross ; 

V.  i.  365. 
Pare?  =  leopard  ;  II.  ii.  31. 
Parlous  ■=  perilous  ;  III.  i.  14. 
Parts,  qualities;  III.  ii.  153. 
Pat,   pat,   exactly,    just    as    it 

should  be;  III.  i.  2. 


Patched,  wearing  a  coat  of  va- 
rious colours ;  "  patched 
fool,"  i.e.  "  a  motley  fool  "  ; 
IV.  i.  214. 

Patches,  clowns ;  III.  ii.  9. 

Patent;  "virgin  patent,"  priv- 
ilege of  virginity;  I.  i.  80. 

Pelting,  paltry ;   II.  i.  91. 

Pensioners,  retainers;  II.  i.  10. 

Periods,  full  stops ;  V.  i.  96. 

Pert,  lively;  I.  i.  13. 

P/2Z&&MJ'=  Phoebus ;  I.  ii.  34. 

Pilgrimage;  'maiden  pilgrim- 
age,' a  passing  through  life 
unwedded;  I.  i.  75. 

Plain-song,  used  as  an  epithet 
of  the  cuckoo,  with  reference 
to  its  simple,  monotonous 
note ;  a  "  plain-song "  is  a 
melody  without  any  varia- 
tions; III.  i.  135. 

Points;  '  stand  upon  points,' 
used  quibblingly,  (i)  "mind 
his  stops,"  and  (2)  "  be  over- 
scrupulous "  ;  V.  i.   118. 

Possess'd;  '  as  well  possess'd,' 
possessed  of  as  much  wealth ; 
I.  i.  100, 

Preferred,  submitted  for  appro- 
val;  IV.  ii.  38. 

Preposterously,  perversely ;  III. 
ii.  121. 

Presently  =  immediately  ;  IV. 
ii.  2,6. 

Prevaihnent,   weight,    sway;    I. 

i-  35. 

Prey,  the  act  of  preying;  II.  ii. 
150. 

Princess,  paragon,  perfection; 
III.  ii.  144. 

Privilege,  safeguard,  protec- 
tion ;  II.  i.  220. 


107 


Glossary 


A  MIDSUMMER. 


Procrus,  a  blunder  for  "  Pro- 
cris,"  the  wife  of  Cephalus; 
V.  i.   199,  200. 

Prodigious,  unnatural ;  V.  i. 
409. 

Prologue,  speaker  of  the  pro- 
logue ;  V.  i,  106. 

Proper,   fine,    handsome;    I.   ii. 

85. 

Properties;  a  theatrical  term 
for  all  the  adjuncts  of  a  play, 
except  the  scenery  and  the 
dresses  of  the  actors ;  I.  ii. 
108. 

Protest,  vow;  I.  i.  89. 

Pumps,  low  shoes;    IV.  ii.  36. 

Purple-in-grain,  dyed  deep  red; 
I.  ii.  93- 

Quail,  quell,   overpower;   V.  i. 

286. 
Quell,  kill ;  V.  i.  286. 
Quern,  a  mill  for  grinding  corn 

by  hand;  II.  i.  36. 
Questions,  arguings ;  II.  i.  235. 

Recorder,  a  kind  of  flageolet; 

V.  i.  123. 
Rent,  rend;  III.  ii.  215. 
Rere-mice,  bats;  II.  ii.  4. 
Respect;  '  in  my  r.,'  i.e.  "  in  my 

estimation  "  ;  II.  i.  224. 
Respects,  regards ;  I.  i.  160. 
Right  maid,  true  maid;  III.  ii. 

302. 
Ringlets,    the    circles    on    the 

greensward,    supposed   to   be 

made     by     the     fairies     (cp. 

Orbs)  ;  II.  i.  86. 
Ripe,  grow  ripe;  II.  i.  118. 
Ripe,    ready    for    presentation ; 

V.  i.  42. 


Round;    '  dance    in    our    r.,'   a 
dance  in  a  circle;  II.  i.  140. 


From  a  woodcut  in  the  Roxburghe 
collection  of  ballads. 

Roundel,  dance  in  a  circle;  II. 
ii.  I. 

Run  through  Hre ;  a  proverbial 
expression  signifying  "  to  do 
impossibilities  "  ;  II.  ii.  103. 

Sad,  serious ;  IV.  i.  100. 
Sanded,  sandy  coloured;  IV.  i. 

125. 
Savours,  scents,  fragrance ;  II. 

i.  13.  , 

Schooling,  instructions;  I.  i. 
116. 

Scrip,  "  scroll,"  i.e.  list  of  ac- 
tors ;  I.  ii.  3. 

Seal,  pledge ;  III.  ii.  I44- 

Seething,  heated,  excited;  V.  i. 

4- 
Self-affairs,  my  own  business; 

I.  i.  113. 


108 


NIGHT'S  DREAM 


Glossary 


Sensible,  capable  of  feeling;  V. 
i.  i8i. 

Serpent's  tongue,  i.e.  hissing,  as 
a  sign  of  disapproval ;  V.  i. 
430. 

Shafaliis,  a  blunder  for  "  Ceph- 
alus,"'  who  remained  true 
to  his  wife  Procris  notwith- 
standing Aurora's  love  for 
him;  V.  i.  199,  200. 

Sheen,  brightness ;  II.  i.  29. 

Shore  =  shorn ;  V.  i.  338. 

Shrewd,  mischievous;  II.  i.  ss- 

Simpleness,    simplicity;     V.    i. 

83. 
Sinister,  left;  V.  i.  163. 
Sisters    Three,   i.e.   the   Fates ; 

V.  i.  334. 
Sleep,  sleeping;  IV.  i.  152. 
Small,  in  a  treble  voice  like  a 

boy  or  a  woman ;  I.  ii.  49. 
Snuff,  used  equivocally;  'to  be 

in    snuff ':='' to    be    offend- 
ed"; V.  i.  248. 
So,  in  the  same  manner ;  IV.  i. 

125. 
Solemnities,  nuptial  festivities ; 

I.  i.  II. 
Solemnly,  with  due  ceremony; 

IV.  i.  93. 

Sooth,  truth;  II.  ii.  129. 

Sort,  company,  crew ;  III.  ii.  13. 

Sorting;  '  not  s.  with,'  not  be- 
fitting; V.  i.  55. 

Sphery,  star-like ;  II.  ii.  99. 

Spleen,  sudden  passion ;  I.  .. 
146. 

Split;  *  to  make  all  split,'  a  pro- 
verbial expression  used  to 
denote  violent  action ;  orig- 
inally used  by  sailors;  I.  ti. 
29. 


Spotted,  polluted;  I.  i.  no. 

Spring;  '  middle  summer's 
spring,'  the  begmning  of  mid- 
summer ;  II.  i.  82. 

Square,  wrangle,  squabble ;  II. 
i.  30. 

Stay  =  to  stay;  II.  i.  138. 

Stealth,  stealing  away  ;  III.  ii. 
310. 

Steppe  (so  Quarto  i),  probably 
an  error  for  "  steep "  (the 
reading  of  the  Folios  and 
Quarto  2)  ;  hence  Milton's 
"Indian  steep"  (Comus, 
139)  ;  it  is  doubtful  whether 
Shakespeare  was  acquainted 
with  this  Russian  term;  II. 
i.  69. 

Still,  always,  ever ;  I.  i.  212. 

Stood  upon,  depended  upon;  I. 
i.  139. 

Streak,  touch  softly ;  II.  i.  257. 

Stretch' d,  strained ;  *  extremely 
s.,'  i.e.  "  strained  to  the  ut- 
most" ;  V.  i.  80. 

Strings,  to  tie  on  false  beards 
with ;    IV.   ii.   35. 

Superpraisc,  overpraise ;  III.  ii. 
153- 

Tartar's  how;  the  Tartars  or 
Parthians  were  famous  for 
their  skill  in  archery ;  in  the 
old  maps  Tartary  included 
the  ancient   Parthia;    III.   ii. 

lOI. 

Tear;  '  to  tear  a  cat  in,'  a  pro- 
verbial phrase  =  to  rant  vio- 
lently; I.  ii.  29. 

Thick-skin,  dolt;  III.  ii.  13. 


109 


Glossary 


A  M1DSUMMER= 


Thracian  singer,  i.e.  Orpheus ; 
"  His  grief  for  the  loss  of 
Eurydice  led  him  to  treat 
with  contempt  the  Thracian 
women,  who  in  revenge  tore 
him  to  pieces  under  the  ex- 
citement of  their  Bacchana- 
lian orgies  "  ;  V.  i.  49. 

Thread,  the  warp ;  V.  i.  291. 

Throws;  throws  off,  sheds;  II. 
i-  255. 

Thrum,  the  loose  end  of  a 
weaver's  warp ;    V".  i.  285. 

'Tide,  betide;  V.  i.  204. 

Tiring-house,  dressing-room ; 
III.   i.  4. 

Toward,  in  progress;  III.  i.  81. 

Toys,  trifles ;  *  fairy  toys/  fan- 
ciful tales;  V.  i.  3. 

Trace,  traverse;  II.  i.  25. 

Translated,  transformed ;  I.  i. 
191 ;  III.  i.  122. 

Transported,  removed,  carried 
off;  IV.  ii.  4. 

Triple  Hecate,  i.e.  ruling  in 
three  capacities — as  Luna  or 
Cynthia  in  heaven,  Diana  on 
earth,  and  Hecate  in  hell ; 
V.  i.  381. 

Triumph,  public  show;  I.  i.  19. 

Troth,  truth;  II.  ii.  2>^. 

Tuneable,  tuneful ;  I.  i.  184. 

Unbreathed,  unexercised;  V.  i. 

74. 
Unharden'd,  impressionable ;  I. 

i.  35. 
Upon,  by;  II.  i.  244. 

Vantage;  'with  vantage,'  hav- 
ing the  advantage;  I.  i.  102. 


Fawar  J  =  vanguard;  IV.  i. 
no. 

Villagery,  a  collective  word, 
meaning  either  (i)  village 
population,   or    (2)    villages; 

II.  i.  35. 

Virtue ;  '  fair  virtue's  force/  i.e. 
the   power    of   thy    fairness ; 

III.  i.  144. 

Voice,  approval;  I.  i.  54. 
Votaress,  a  vestal  vowed  to  vir- 
ginity; II.  i.  163. 

Wandering  knight  ^^Vimght  er- 
rant ;  I.  ii.  44. 

Want,  lack;  II.  i.  loi. 

Wanton,  luxuriant,  thick;  II.  i. 
99. 

Wasted,  consumed;  V.  i.  372. 

Ways;  '  all  ways,'  in  all  direc- 
tions; IV.  i.  46. 

Weed,  robe;   II.  i.  256. 

Where  (dissyllabic)  ;  II.  i.  249. 

Where  =  wherever  ;  IV.  i.  157. 

Whether  (monosyllabic)  ;  I.  i. 
69. 

Withering  out,  delaying  the  en- 
joyment /-f ;  1.  i.  6. 

Without,  outside  of;  I.  i.  165; 
beyond  the  reach  of;  IV.  i. 
158. 

Wode,  mad  (with  a  play  upon 
"  wood  ")  ;  II.  i.   192. 

Woodbine,  honeysuckle ;  II.  i. 
251;  probably  '*  convulvulus 
or  bindweed  " ;  IV.  i.  46. 

Worm,  serpent ;  III.  ii.  71. 

Wrath,  wrathful;  II.  i.  20. 

You  (ethic  dative)  ;  I.  ii.  81,  82. 


no 


NIGHT'S  DREAM 


Critical  Notes. 

BY   ISRAEL   GOLLANCZ. 

I.  i,  10.  *  new-bent' ;  Rowe's  correction  of  'now  bent/  the  read- 
ing of  the  Quartos  and  Folios. 

I.  i.  II.  '  Philostrate'  is  the  name  assumed  by  Arcite  in  Chau- 
cer's Knight's  Tale;  it  occurs  too  in  Plutarch's  Lives,  where  are 
to  be  found  also  the  names  Lysander  and  Demetrius. 

I.  i.  27.  The  second  Folio  reads,  'this  hath  bewitched' ;  the 
earlier  edition,  '  this  man ' ;  perhaps  we  should  read  '  this  man 
hath  'witched.' 

I.  i.  44.  '  our  law' ;  Solon's  laws  gave  a  father  the  power  of  life 
and  death  over  his  child. 

I.  i.  159,  160.  These  lines  should  perhaps  be  transposed. 

I.  i.  167.  '  to  do  observance  to  a  morn  of  May,'  cp.  Knight's 
Tale,  1500:  'And  for  to  doon  his  observance  to  May.' 

I.  i.  2ig.  ' stranger  companies';  Theobald's  emendation  of 
'strange  companions,'  which  is  the  reading  of  the  Quartos  and 
Folios. 

I.  ii.  II.  '  The  most  lamentable  comedy,'  etc.  Cp.  the  title  of 
Preston's  Cambyses,  '  a  lamentable  tragedy  mixed  full  of  pleasant 
mirth,'  etc. 

I.  ii.  51.  '  Thisne,  Thisne,'  so  the  Quartos  and  Folios;  perhaps 
this  spelling  was  intentional  to  represent  Bottom's  attempt  to 
speak  the  name  '  in  a  monstrous  little  voice.'  The  words  may, 
however,  be  an  error  for  *'  thisne,  thisne,'  i.e.  'in  this  manner,  in 
this  manner,' '  thissen'  being  used  in  this  sense  in  various  dialects. 

II.  i.  54,  55.  The  Quartos  and  Folios  read  '  coffe  .  .  .  loife,' 
for  the  sake  of  the  rhyme. 

II.  i.  58.  '  room ' ;  probably  pronounced  as  a  dissyllable. 

II.  i.  78.  '  Perigenia,'  called  '  Perigouna '  in  North's  Plutarch  ; 
she  was  the  daughter  of  the  famous  robber  Sinnis,  by  whom 
Theseus  had  a  son,  Menaloppus. 

II.  i.  79.  '  ^gle  ' ;  Rowe's  correction  for  '  Eagles '  of  the  Quar- 
tos and  Folios ;  probably  '  Eagles '  was  for  '  ^gles,'  a  form  due 
to  North's  Plutarch,  where  it  is  stated  that  some  think  Theseus 

III 


Notes 


A  MIDSUMMER= 


left  Ariadne  "  because  he  was  in  love  with  another,  as  by  these 
verses  should  appear, 

'  Mgles  the  nymph  was  lov'd  of  Theseus, 
Who  was  the  daughter  of  Panopeus' " 

II.  i.  80  Anfiopa,  said  to  be  the  name  of  the  Amazon  queen,  and 
the  mother  of  Hippolytus. 

II.  i.  231.  'Daphne  holds  the  chase';  the  story  tells  how  Apollo 

pursued  Daphne,  who  was 
changed  into  a  laurel-tree  as  he 
reached  her. 

II.  i.  232.  '  the  dove  pursues 
the  griffin ' ;  the  accompanying 
illustration  of  a  griffin  is  from 
an  early  MS.  of  Maundevile's 
Travels. 

III.  i.  36-47.  This  was  prob- 
ably suggested  by  an  actual  in- 
cident which  occurred  during  the 
Kenilworth  festivities,  when  one 
Harry  Goldingham,  who  was  to 
represent  Arion  upon  the  Dol- 
phin's back,  tore  off  his  disguise, 

was  none  01  Arion  {^cp.  Scott's  use  of  this  story  in 


From  an  early  MS.  of  Maundevile's 
Travels. 


and  swore  he 
Kenilworth). 

III.  i.  54.  'A  calen- 
dar, a  calendar  .  .  . 
find  out  moonshine'' 
{Cp.  illustration.) 

III.  i.  190.  '  Squash,' 
i.e.  an  unripe  peascod. 

III.  ii.  s6.  '  latch' d'-y 
the  word  '  latch '  In 
this  passage,  as  Prof. 
Skeat  has  pointed  out, 
is   not    connected   with 


of 


w  tWoacwc]^a3x^.xIitw.nvtiemc)rmT)^ 
iuAquaic. 


(Hu^Iccpcr^. 


aft 


From  the  Almanacke  of  Walter  Gray  for  1591. 


the  ordinary  '  latch'  '  to  catch,'  but  is  etymologically  the  casual 
form  of  '  leak'  and  means  '  to  cause  to  drop,  to  drip.' 

III.  ii,  119.  'sport  alone'  i.e.  'by  itself,  without  anything  else'; 
others  render  '  alone '  by  '  above  all  things,  without  a  parallel.' 

III.  ii.  188.  '  oes';  0  was  used  for  anything  round,  among  other 
things  for  circular  discs  of  metal  used  for  ornaments ;  cp.  Bacon, 


112 


NIGHT'S  DREAM 


Notes 


Essay  xxxvii. :  "  And  Oes,  and  Spangs,  as  they  are  of  no  great 
cost,  so  they  are  of  most  glory." 

III.  ii.  204.  '  needles'  a  monosyllable ;  '  needle '  was  often  spelt 
'  neeld'  in  Old  English. 

III.  ii.  212-214.  "  Helena  says,  '  we  had  two  seeming  bodies  but 
one  heart.'  She  then  exemplifies  her  position  by  a  simile — '  we 
had  two  of  the  first,  i.e.  bodies,  like  the  double  coats  in  heraldry 
that  belong  to  man  and  wife  as  one  person,  but  which,  like  our 
single  heart,  have  but  one  crest.'  " 

III.  ii.  257.  'No,  no;  he'll  stay.  The  Cambridge  Edition,  'No, 
no;  he'll  .  .  .  seem';  the  first  Quarto,  '  heele  seem';  the  sec- 
ond,  '  hee  'I  seem ' ;  the  first  Folio,  '  No,  no,  Sir,  seem.'  The  pas- 
sage is  clearly  corrupt  in  the  old  editions,  Mr.  Orson  ingeniously 
suggests : — 

"  No,  no,  sir;  still 
Seeme  to  breake  loose," 

'  heele '  being  an  easy  misreading  of  '  stille.'     The  present  editor 
has  added  'stay'  as  a  mere  conjecture. 

III.  ii.  379.  '  Night's  swift  dragons  cut  the  clouds  full  fast.' 
(Cp.  the  accompanying  illustration.) 


■^ 

^^^?i^» 

^^^^^ty/flK 

1 

:M  \j      BSStv 

^s^ 

^ 

< 

^:^^ 

:^^ 

From  Pynson's  edition  of  tlie  Shepherd'' s  Kalendar. 

IV.  i.  31.  'a  reasonable  good  ear  in  music' ;  weavers  were  sup- 
posed to  be  fond  of  music,  more  especially  of  psalm-singing;  cp. 
I  Henry  IV.,  II.  iv.  146,  '/  zvould  I  were  a  weaver,  I  could  sing 
psalms.' 

IV.  i.  46.  '  So  doth  the  woodbine  the  sweet  honeysuckle ' ;  com- 
monly 'woodbine'  is  identical  with  'honeysuckle,'  but  it  is  also 
used  by  Elizabethans  for  '  convolvulus  '  and  '  ivy.'     Shakespeare, 

113 


Notes  A  MIDSUMMER- 

however,  uses  the  word  In  two  other  passages  (II.  i.  251,  and 
Much  Ado,  III.  i.  30)  in  the  sense  of  '  honeysuckle ' ;  hence  War- 
burton  suggested : — 

'So  doth  the  woodbine,  the  sweet  honeysuckle, 
Gently  entwist  the  maple,  ivy  so,'  etc. 

Johnson  thought  that  'woodbine'  was  the  plant,  and  'honey- 
suckle '  the  flower.  These  suggestions  are  not  satisfactory :  the 
simplest  way  out  of  the  difficulty  is  to  take  '  woodbine  '  as  equiva- 
lent to  *  convolvulus '  or  '  bindweed ' :  cp.  Ben  Jonson's  Vision  of 
Delight  :— 

'behold! 
How  the  blue  hlindweed  doth  itself  infold 
With  honeysuckle.' 

IV.  i.  78.  '  Dian's  bud ' ;  it  has  been  thought  that  perhaps  '  Dian's 
bud '  = 'Dianas  rose,'  'the  rose  of  England's  Virgin  Queen'; 
'  Diana's  Rose '  is  actually  used  in  this  complimentary  sense  in 
Greene's  Friar  Bacon. 

IV.  i.  87.  '  Than  common  sleep,'  etc. ;  the  Quartos  and  first  two 
Folios  read  ' sleepe:  of  all  these,  fine  the  sense';  the  correction  is 
Theobald's. 

IV.  i.  95.  ^prosperity' ;  so  the  first  Quarto;  the  second  and  Fo- 
lios, '  posterity.' 

IV.  i.  121.  'fountains' ;  perhaps  an  error  for  'mountains* 

V.  i.  47.  'my  kinsman  Hercules';  cp.  North's  Plutarch,  Life  of 
Theseus:  "they  (Theseus  and  Hercules)  were  near  kinsmen, 
being  cousins  removed  by  the  mother's  side." 

V.  i.  54.  '  critical,'  i.e.  '  censorious,'  as  in  the  well-known  utter- 
ance of  lago,  'I  am  nothing,  if  not  critical'  {Othello,  II.  i.  120), 

V.  i.  59.  'wondrous  strange  snow';  'strange'  is  hardly  the  epi- 
thet one  would  expect,  and  various  emendations  have  been  sug- 
gested:— 'strange  black'  'strong  snow,'  'swarthy  snow,'  'sable- 
snow,'  'and,  wondrous  strange!  yet  snow.'  Perhaps  the  most 
plausible  conjecture  is  Mr.  S.  W.  Orson's  'wondrous  Haming 
snow' ;  cp.  "What  strange  fits  be  these,  Philautus,  that  burn  thee 
with  such  a  heat,  that  thou  shakest  for  cold,  and  all  thy  body  in  a 
shivering  sweat,  in  a  Haming  ice,  melteth  like  wax  and  hardeneth 
like  the  adamant"  (Lyly's  Euphues,  ed.  Arber,  p.  311). 

V.  i.  91.  '  And  what  poor  duty,'  etc. ;  Coleridge  proposed : — 
'And  what  poor  duty  cannot  do,  yet  would, 
Noble  respect  takes  it,'  etc. 
The  metre  Is  defective  as  the  lines  stand.     Theobald  read  'poor 

114 


NIGHT'S  DREAM 


Notes 


willing  duty  .  .  .  Noble  respect.'  The  meaning  is  sufficiently- 
clear,  and  recalls  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  V.  ii.  516,  'That  sport 
best  pleases  that  doth  least  know  hozv,'  etc.  Takes  it  in  might  = 
*  regards  the  ability  or  effort  of  the  performance/ 

V.  i.  106.  '  the  Prologue  is  address' d;  i.e.  the  speaker  of  the  p. 
is  ready. 


From  a  woodcut  in  the  Atitigone  of  G.  P.  Trapolini  (Padua,  1581). 

V.  i.  118.  'stand  upon  points';  Quince's  punctuation  reminds 
one  of  the  reading  of  Roister  Bolster's  letter  to  Mistress  Con- 
stance in  the  old  comedy  (cp.  Roister  Doister,  iii.  3). 

V.  i.  139.  '  name ' ;  as  there  is  no  rhyme  to  name,  the  loss  of  a 
line  is  to  be  inferred,  or  perhaps  we  should  read  '  which  by  name 
Lion  hight.' 

V.  i.  163.  'And  this  the 
cranny  is.'  (Cp.  the  following 
illustration.) 

V.  i.  207.  '  mural  down ' ; 
the  Quartos  read  'Moon 
used';  the  Folios,  '  morall 
downe';  the  emendation  '  mu- 
raV  was  due  to  Pope. 

V.  i.  224.  '  n'am  lion  fell'; 
the  Quartos  and  Folios  read 
'am  lion  fell,'  i.e.  a  fierce  lion; 
but  Snug  wishes  to  say  *  he  is  From  a  Dutch  drama  on  the  subject 
not  a  lion,'  wherefore  the  of  Pyramus  and  Thisbe  (Amster- 
words  have  been  hyphened  by  ' 

most  modern  editors,  including  the  Cambridge  Edition,  *  lion-fell,' 


115 


Notes 


A  MIDSUMMER^ 


i.e.  *a  lion's  skin,'  Johnson  understood  'neither'  before  'a  lion 
fell ' ;  Rowe  read  '  No  lion  fell.'  1  am  strongly  inclined  to  believe 
that  Shakespeare  wrote  '  n'ayn'  an  archaic  form,  like  nill  {i.e.  ne 
will).  In  Gascoigne's  Steele  Glas  the  following  couplet  occurs, 
remarkably  suggestive  of  our  text : — 

""/  Ji'am  a  man,  as  some  do  think  I  am; 
(Laugh  not  good  lord),  I  am  indede  a  dame." 
Considering  Gascoigne's  intimate  connection  with  the  Kenilworth 
Festivities,  a  strong  case  could  be  made  out  for  the  theory  that 
Snug's  couplet  is  a  direct  parody  of  the  lines  in  the  Steele  Glas. 

V.  i.  256-8.  'I,  the  man  i'  the  moon; 

this    thornbush    my    thornhush;    and 

this  dog  my  dog.'     (Cp.  illustration.) 

V.    i.   269,   270.  Spedding  proposed 

to  invert  these  lines. 

V.  i.  273.  '  gleams ' ;  the  Quartos 
and  Folio  i  read  'beams';  Folio  2, 
'  streams.' 

V.  i.  319,  320.  'he  for  a  man — God 
bless  us'  omitted  in  the  Folios,  prob- 
ably in  consequence  of  the  statute  of 
James  I.  forbidding  profane  speaking, 
or  use  of  *  the  holy  name  of  God.' 


From  a  seal  afifixed  to  a  deed 
dated  i335- 


V.  i.  322.  '  means, 
changed  by  Theo- 
bald to  '  moans.' 
.  .  .  'Mean'  in  the 
sense  of  '  to  lament,' 
an  archaic  form,  is 
really  more  correct 
than  '  moan,'  and 
probably  intention- 
ally used  by  Shake- 
speare to  harmonize 
with  the  archaisms 
of  the  interlude. 

V.  i.  370.  '  be- 
hoivls ' ;  Theobald's 
emendation  of  '  be- 
holds' the  reading 
of  the  Quartos  and 
Folios. 


From  a  woodcut  in  the  Mad  Prankes  (of  Robin 
Good-fellow),  1628. 

116 


NIGHT*S  DREAM  Notes 

V.  i.  387.  '/  am  sent  with  broom  before.'   Cp.  illustration.) 

V.  i.  393.  '  this  ditty ' ;  Johnson  supposes  that  two  songs  are 

lost,  one  led  by  Titania,  and  one  by  Oberon, 
V.  i.  417,  418.  These  lines  should  obviously  be  transposed  in 

order  to  make  sense  of  the  passage. 


117 


A  MIDSUMMER' 


Explanatory  Notes. 

The  Explanatory  Notes  in  this  edition  have  been  specially  selected  and 
adapted,  with  emendations  after  the  latest  and  best  authorities,  from  the 
most  eminent  Shakespearian  scholars  and  commentators,  including  Johnson, 
Malone,  Steevens,  Singer,  Dyce,  Hudson,  White,  Furness,  Dowden,  and 
others.  This  method,  here  introduced  for  the  first  time,  provides  the  best 
annotation  of  Shakespeare  ever  embraced  in  a  single  edition. 


ACT  FIRST. 
Scene  I. 

20.  duke : — This  has  been  set  down  as  a  misapplication  of  a 
modern  title.  If  it  be  such,  Shakespeare  is  not  responsible  for  it, 
as  Theseus  is  repeatedly  called  duk  in  Chaucer's  Knight's  Tale, 
to  which  the  Poet  was  evidently  indebted  for  some  of  the  material 
of  this  play.  But  indeed  this  application  of  duke  to  the  heroes  of 
antiquity  was  quite  common ;  the  word  being  from  the  Latin  dux, 
which  means  a  chief  or  leader  of  any  sort.  Thus  in  i  Chronicles, 
i.  51,  we  have  a  list  of  "the  dukes  of  Edom."  We  will  subjoin 
the  opening  of  The  Knight's  Tale,  as  illustrating  both  the  matter 
in  hand  and  the  general  scope  of  the  Poet's  obhgations  in  that 
quarter : — 

"  Whilom,  as  olde  stories  tellen  us, 
Ther  was  a  duk  that  highte  Theseus. 
Of  Athenes  he  was  lord  and  governour, 
And  in  his  time  swiche  a  conquerour, 
That  greter  was  ther  non  under  the  sonne. 
Ful  many  a  riche  contree  had  he  wonne. 
What  with  his  wisdom  and  his  chevalrie, 
He  conquerd  all  the  regne  of  Feminie, 
That  whilom  was  ycleped  Scythia ; 
And  wedded  the  fresshe  queue  Ipolita, 
And  brought  hire  home  with  him  to  his  contree 

118 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Notes 

With  mochel  glorie  and  gret  solempnitee, 
And  eke  hire  yonge  suster  Emehe. 
And  thus  with  victorie  and  with  melodie 
Let  I  this  worthy  duk  to  Athenes  ride, 
And  all  his  host  in  armes  him  beside." 

131.  Beteem: — This  term  for  permit  or  allozv  is  used  by  Shake- 
speare only  here  and  in  Hamlet,  I.  ii.,  in  the  familiar  passage 
(lines  140-142)  :  "  So  loving  to  my  mother,  that  he  might  not 
beteem  the  winds  of  heaven  visit  her  face  too  roughly."  Spenser 
has  in  The  Faerie  Queene,  ii.  8,  19 : — 

"  So  would  I  (said  th'  enchaunter)  glad  and  faine 
Beteeme  to  you  this  sword,  you  to  defend." 

14T-149.  Or,  if  there  were  a  sympathy,  etc. : — Milton  seems  to 
have  remembered  this  passage  in  his  account  of  the  "  innumerable 
disturbances  on  earth  through  female  snares,"  Paradise  Lost, 
Book  X. : — 

"  For  either 
He  never  shall  find  out  fit  mate,  but  such 
As  some  misfortune  brings  him,  or  mistake; 
Or  whom  he  wishes  most  shall  seldom  gain. 
Through  her  perverseness,  but  shall  see  her  gain'd 
By  a  far  worse ;  or,  if  she  love,  withheld 
By  parents ;  or  his  happiest  choice  too  late 
Shall  meet,  already  link'd  and  wedlock-bound 
To  a  fell  adversary,  his  hate  or  shame : 
Which  infinite  calamity  shall  cause 
To  human  life,  and  household  peace  confound." 

It  did  not  fall  within  Milton's  purpose  to  consider  that  poor 
woman  is  a  sufferer  in  these  disturbances  as  well  as  man :  he 
views  her  as  the  cause,  not  as  the  victim,  of  these  mischiefs ; 
whereas  Shakespeare  regards  both  sexes  as  subject  to  them  by  an 
edict  of  Destiny. 

167.  To  do  observance  to  a  morn  of  May: — Here  we  may  per- 
ceive that  Shakespeare  has  been  with  Chaucer : — 

"  Thus  passeth  yere  by  yere,  and  day  by  day, 
Till  it  felle  ones  in  a  morwe  of  May, 
That  Emelie,  that  fayrer  was  to  sene 
Than  is  the  lilie  upon  his  stalke  grene, 

119 


Notes  A  MIDSUMMER' 

And  fressher  than  the  May  with  floures  newe, 

(For  with  the  rose  colour  strof  hire  hewe; 

I  n'ot  which  was  the  finer  of  hem  two,) 

Er  it  was  day,  as  she  was  wont  to  do, 

She  was  arisen,  and  all  redy  dight. 

For  May  wol  have  no  slogardie  a-night. 

The  seson  priketh  every  gentil  herte, 

And  maketh  him  out  of  his  slepe  to  sterte, 

And  sayth,  arise  and  do  thin  observance" 

Touching  the  rites  of  this  ancient  holiday — a  time  that  inspired 
Chaucer  to  sing, 

"  O  Maye,  with  all  thy  floures  and  thy  grene. 
Right  welcome  be  thou,  faire  freshe  May, 
I  hope  that  I  some  grene  here  getten  may  " — 

Stowe  informs  us  how  our  ancestors  were  wont  to  go  out  into 
"the  sweet  meadows  and  green  woods,  there  to  rejoice  their 
spirits  with  the  beauty  and  savour  of  sweet  flowers,  and  with  the 
harmony  of  birds  praising  God  in  their  kind."  But  Stubbs,  the 
atrabilious  Puritan,  in  his  Anatomie  of  Abuses,  speaks  very  dif- 
ferently; he  accounts  for  the  delight  others  take  in  the  season 
thus:  "And  no  marvel,  for  there  is  a  great  lord  present  among 
them,  as  superintendent  over  their  pastimes  and  sports,  namely, 
Sathan,  Prince  of  Hell." 

246-251.  /  will  go  tell  him  of  fair  Hermia's  Hight,  etc.: — "I  am 
convinced,"  says  Coleridge,  "that  Shakespeare  availed  himself  of 
the  title  of  this  play  in  his  own  mind,  and  worked  upon  it  as  a 
dream  throughout,  but  especially,  and,  perhaps,  unpleasingly,  in 
this  broad  determination  of  ungrateful  treachery  in  Helena,  so 
undisguisedly  avowed  to  herself,  and  this,  too,  after  the  witty 
cool  philosophizing  that  precedes.  The  act  itself  is  natural,  and 
the  resolve  so  to  act  is,  I  fear,  likewise  too  true  a  picture  of  the 
lax  hold  which  principles  have  on  a  woman's  heart,  when  opposed 
to,  or  even  separated  from,  passion  and  inclination.  For  women 
are  less  hypocrites  to  their  own  minds  than  men  are,  because  in 
general  they  feel  less  proportionate  abhorrence  of  moral  evil  in 
and  for  itself,  and  more  of  its  outward  consequences,  as  detec- 
tion, and  loss  of  character  than  men — their  natures  being  almost 
wholly  extroitive.  Still,  however  just  in  itself,  the  representation 
of  this  is  not  poetical ;  we  shrink  from  it,  and  cannot  harmonize 
it  with  the  ideal." 

120 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Notes 

Scene  II. 

48,  49.  you  shall  play,  etc. :— See  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor, 
I  i  48,  49,  where  Slender  says  of  Anne  Page,  "  She  has  brown 
hair,  and  speaks  small  Uke  a  woman."  This  speech  of  Peter 
Quince's  shows,  what  is  known  from  other  sources,  that  the  parts 
of  women  were  used  to  be  played  by  boys,  or,  if  these  could  not  be 
had  by  men  in  masks.  Prynne,  the  Puritan  hero,  mforms  us  that 
female  actors  appeared  on  the  stage  at  the  Blackfnars  as  early 
as  1629,  and  he  comes  down  upon  women's  actmg  with  a  tempest 
of  wrath,  while  he  is  still  harder  upon  the  personating  of  women 
by  boys  and  men. 

92-95.  your  straw  colour  beard,  etc. :— It  seems  to  have  been  a 
custom  to  stain  or  dye  the  beard.  So  Ben  Jonson  m  The  Al- 
chemist: "He  has  dyed  his  beard  and  all." 

96  97  This  is  an  allusion  to  the  baldness  attendant  upon  a 
particular  stage  of  what  was  then  termed  the  French  disease.     ^ 

105.  properties  :—A  curious  list  of  these  is  given  in  Brome  s 
comedy.  The  Antipodes,  1640:— 

"  He  has  got  into  our  tiring-house  amongst  us. 
And  ta'en  a  strict  survey  of  all  our  properties ; 
Our  statues  and  our  images  of  gods, 
Our  planets  and  our  constellations. 
Our  giants,  monsters,  furies,  beasts,  and  bugbears, 
Our  helmets,  shields  and  vizors,  hairs  and  beards,    ^^ 
Our  pasteboard  marchpanes,  and  our  wooden  pies. 

ACT   SECOND. 
Scene  I. 

2  et  sea.  Collier  informs  us  that  "  Coleridge,  in  his  lectures  in 
1818,  was  very  emphatic  in  his  praise  of  the  beauty  of  these  lines; 
'the  measure,'  he  said,  'had  been  invented  and  employed  by 
Shakespeare  for  the  sake  of  its  appropriateness  to  the  rapid  and 
airy  motion  of  the  Fairy  by  whom  the  passage  is  delivered. 
And  in  his  Literary  Remains,  after  analyzing  the  measure,  he 
speaks  of  the  "  delightful  effect  on  the  ear,"  caused  by  the  sweet 
transition"  from  the  amphimacers  of  the  first  four  lines  to  the 
trochaic  of  the  next  two.     The  orbs  here  referred  to  were  the 

121 


Notes  A  MIDSUMMER^ 

verdant  circles  which  the  old  superstition  thus  delineated  called 
fairy  rings,  supposing  them  to  be  made  by  the  night-tripping 
fairies  dancing  their  merry  roundels.  As  the  ground  became 
parched  under  the  feet  of  the  moonlight  dancers,  Puck's  office 
was  to  refresh  it  with  sprinklings  of  dew,  thus  making  it  greener 
than  ever.  Science  has  of  course  brushed  away  the  charm  that 
once  hung  about  these  rings,  which,  it  tells  us,  are  merely  circular 
growths  of  fungi.  The  allusion  in  the  term  pensioners  is  to 
Elizabeth's  band  of  Gentleman  Pensioners,  who  were  chosen  from 
among  the  handsomest  and  tallest  young  men  of  family  and  for- 
tune ;  they  were  dressed  in  habits  richly  garnished  with  gold  lace. 

15.  hang  a  pearl,  etc. : — In  the  old  comedy  of  The  Wisdome  of 
Doctor  Dodypoll,  before  1600,  an  enchanter  says  : — 

"  'Twas  I  that  led  you  through  the  painted  meads, 
Where  the  light  fairies  danc'd  upon  the  flowers, 
Hanging  on  every  leaf  an  orient  pearl." 

16.  loh  of  spirits : — It  would  seem  that  Puck,  though  he  could 
"  put  a  girdle  round  about  the  earth  in  forty  minutes,"  was  heavy 
and  sluggish  in  comparison  with  the  other  fairies :  he  was  the 
lubber  of  the  spirit  tribe.  Shakespeare's  "  lob  of  spirits  "  is  the 
same  as  Milton's  "  lubbar  fiend,"  thus  spoken  of  in  L' Allegro: — 

"  And  he,  by  friar's  lantern  led. 
Tells  how  the  drudging  goblin  swet, 
To  earn  his  cream-bowl  duly  set. 
When  in  one  night,  ere  glimpse  of  morn, 
His  shadowy  flail  hath  thresh'd  the  corn, 
That  ten  day-labourers  could  not  end : 
Then  lies  him  down  the  lubbar  fiend, 
And,  stretch'd  out  all  the  chimney's  length, 
Basks  at  the  fire  his  hairy  strength. 
And  crop-full  out  of  doors  he  flings, 
Ere  the  first  cock  his  matin  rings." 

23.  changeling: — It  was  a  roguish  custom  of  the  fairies,  if  a 
child  of  great  promise  were  born,  to  steal  it  away,  and  leave  an 
ugly,  or  foolish,  or  ill-conditioned  one  in  its  stead.     So  in  The 

Faerie  Queene,  i.  10.  65 : — 

"  From  thence  a  Faery  thee  unweeting  reft. 
There,  as  thou  sleptst  in  tender  swadling  band. 
And  her  base  Elfin  brood  there  for  thee  left : 
Such,  men  do  chaungelings  call,  so  chaung'd  by  Faeries  theft." 

122 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Notes 

Sir  Thomas  Browne,  in  his  Religio  Medici,  speaking  of  the 
devil's  practices,  says :  "  Of  all  the  delusions  wherewith  he  de- 
ceives mortality,  there  is  not  any  that  puzzleth  me  more  than  the 
legerdemain  of  changelings."  How  much  comfort  this  old  belief 
sometimes  gave  to  parents,  may  be  seen  from  Drayton's  Nym- 
phidia : — 

"  And  when  a  child  haps  to  be  got, 
Which  after  proves  an  idiot. 
When  folk  perceive  it  thriveth  not, 

The  fault  therein  to  smother. 
Some  silly,  doating,  brainless  calf, 
That  understands  things  by  the  half. 
Says  that  the  fairy  left  this  aulf, 

And  took  away  the  other." 

32-42.  Either  I  mistake,  etc.: — That  this  whole  account  of  Puck 
was  gathered  from  the  popular  notions  of  the  time  might  be 
shown  from  many  passages.  Thus  in  Harsnet's  Declaration  of 
Popish  Impostures:  "And  if  that  the  bowl  of  curds  and  cream 
were  not  duly  set  out  for  Robin  Goodfellow,  the  friar,  and  Sisse 
the  dairy-maid,  why,  then  either  the  pottage  was  burnt  next  day 
in  the  pot,  or  the  cheeses  would  not  curdle,  or  the  butter  would 
not  come,  or  the  ale  in  the  fat  never  would  have  good  head." 
Likewise,  in  Scot's  Discovery  of  Witchcraft:  "Your  grandames' 
maids  were  wont  to  set  a  bowl  of  milk  for  him,  for  his  pains  in 
grinding  malt  and  mustard,  and  sweeping  the  house  at  midnight ; 
— this  white  bread  and  milk  was  his  standing  fee."  See  also  the 
preceding  quotation  from  Milton,  the  ballad  entitled  The  Merry 
Pranks  of  Robin  Goodfellow,  in  Percy's  Reliques,  and  Drayton's 
Nymphidia,  from  the  last  of  which  we  subjoin  one  stanza: — 

"  This  Puck  seems  but  a  dreaming  dolt, 
Still  walking  like  a  ragged  colt, 
And  oft  out  of  a  bush  doth  bolt. 

Of  purpose  to  deceive  us  ; 
And,  leading  us,  makes  us  to  stray 
Long  winter  nights  out  of  the  way. 
And  when  we  stick  in  mire  and  clay, 

He  doth  with  laughter  leave  us." 

54.  And  *  tailor'  cries: — Dr.  Johnson  thought  he  remembered 
to  have  heard  this  ludicrous   exclamation  upon   a  person's  seat 

123 


Notes  A  MIDSUMMER^ 

slipping  from  under  him.  He  that  slips  from  his  chair  falls  as  a 
tailor  squats  upon  his  board. 

56.  waxen  in  their  mirth : — Waxen  is  an  old  plural  form  of 
the  verb  to  wax;  the  meaning  of  course  being,  increase  in  their 
mirth. 

60.  proud  Titania: — "Shakespeare's  elf  queen,"  says  Herford, 
"seems  to  be  more  original  than  either  [Oberon  or  Puck].  Tra- 
dition had  less  definitely  fixed  her  character.  Spenser  had  quite 
recently  (1590)  been  able  to  apply  the  name  to  a  being  as  little 
related  to  the  legendary  mistress  of  Thomas  of  Ercildoun  as  to 
Chaucer's  Proserpina.  Shakespeare  himself  gave  her  a  Puck 
character  as  Mab  in  Romeo  and  Juliet.  Classical  scholars  widely 
connected  her  with  Diana.  Titania  is  distinct  from  all  these,  but  she 
seems  to  have  affinities  both  with  Diana  and  Proserpina.  Like  the 
queen  of  Hades,  Shakespeare's  fairies  are  of  the  night ;  they  '  run 
from  the  presence  of  the  sun,  following  darkness  like  a  dream.'  It 
was  an  easy  step  thence  to  bring  them  into  a  special  relation  to  the 
moon,  and  thus  they  are  made  to  pursue  the  chariot  of  the  *  triple 
Hecate,'  to  sing  hymns  and  carols  to  her,  or  neglect  to  sing  them. 
The  Poet  of  the  Midsummer-Night' s  Dream  was  evidently  at- 
tracted by  the  classical  legends  of  the  Moon,  and  Lyly's  mythic 
drama  on  the  Endymion  story  had  probably  contributed  to  the 
attraction.  This  aspect  of  his  fairydom  seems  to  have  had  its 
share  in  suggesting  the  name  Titania,  which  he  found  in  Ovid's 
Metamorphoses  (iii.  173)  as  a  synonym  for  Diana.  Titania  her- 
self is,  however,  a  very  different  being  from  the  chaste  maiden- 
deity.  She  is  no  goddess,  but  a  fairy,  childlike  in  her  innocence 
and  her  impulsiveness  and,  above  all,  helplessly  subdued  by  the 
shafts  of  that  casual  and  irrational  love  which  the  *  odd  beams  of 
the  watery  moon '  had  instantly  quenched.  But  if  she  is  not 
*  cold,'  she  is  the  embodiment  of  feminine  daintiness  and  delicacy; 
and  all  about  her  is  imagined  with  an  exquisite  instinct  for  the 
elemental  life  of  flower  and  insect  and  all  the  dainty  and  delicate 
things  of  nature." 

105.  rheumatic  diseases: — Rheumatic  is  here  accented  on  the 
first  syllable,  as  also  in  Venus  and  Adonis,  135:  "  O'erworn,  de- 
spised, rheumatic  and  cold."  The  word,  as  Halliwell  says,  is  not 
here  used  in  its  modern  acceptation.  Colds,  coughs,  etc.,  were  in- 
cluded under  this  class  of  complaints. 

124.  the  spiced  Indian  air: — BartholomcEus  de  Glanvilla,  1582, 
is  cited  as  follows :  "  As  the  rivers  there  are  very  many,  so  are 
they  very  great,  through  whose  watery  overflowing  it  commeth 

124 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Notes 

to  passe  that  in  the  moyst  grounde,  the  force  of  the  sunne  ap- 
proaching, ingendreth  or  bringeth  forth  all  things  in  great  quan- 
titie,  and  seemeth  almost  to  fill  the  whole  world  with  spice  and 
precious  stones,  of  which  it  aboundeth  more  than  all  other  coun- 
tries of  the  world." 

i68  ct  seq.  love-in-idleness,  etc.: — The  love-juice  with  which 
the  eyes  of  the  lovers  and  Titania  were  anointed,  was,  according 
to  Herford,  "  first  brought  into  connection  with  fairy-lore  by 
Shakespeare.  It  was  perhaps  suggested  by  a  passage  in  the  Diana 
of  Montemayor  (tr.  1579),  a  book  which  the  Two  Gentlemen 
shows  him  to  have  known.  Upon  this  juice  and  its  effects  the 
whole  plot  turns.  The  attempts  of  Warburton  and  Halfin  to  read 
complex  personal  allusions  into  the  pretty  myth  of  the  little 
western  flower  beyond  the  obvious  compliment  to  Elizabeth,  are 
therefore  open  to  grave  doubt.  With  the  same  delight  in  blend- 
ing classical  and  romantic  myths  which  marks  his  handling  of 
the  fairy  world,  Shakespeare  sought  a  link  between  the  classical 
and  the  romance  symbols  for  the  caprice  and  incalculableness  of 
love — between  the  arrow  of  Cupid  and  the  love-juice.  Such  a 
link  he  found  in  the  country  name  for  the  pansy — '  love-in-idle- 
ness.' It  receives  the  arrow  and  yields  the  juice.  Cupid  himself, 
the  boy,  is  replaced  by  the  king  of  the  childlike  fairies,  and  in 
Oberon's  hands  the  juice  provokes  sudden  accesses  of  unreason- 
ing love.  From  these  wayward  caprices  of  passion,  Theseus  and 
Hippolyta,  once  sufficiently  subject  to  them,  now  stand  severely 
apart." 

195.  You  draw  me,  .  .  .  adamant: — In  Certaine  Secrete 
Wonders  of  Nature,  by  Edward  Fenton,  1569,  is  the  following: 
"There  is  now  a  dayes  a  kind  of  adamant  which  draweth  unto 
it  fleshe,  and  the  same  so  strongly,  that  it  hath  power  to  knit  and 
tie  together  two  mouthes  of  contrary  persons,  and  drawe  the  heart 
of  a  man  out  of  his  bodie  without  offending  any  part  of  him." 

Scene  II. 

45.  O,  take  the  sense,  etc. : — That  is,  understand  the  meaning 
of  my  innocence,  or  my  innocent  meaning, 

120.  Reason  becomes,  etc. : — Though  this  play  be  but  a  dream, 
Lysander  shows  a  good  deal  of  human  nature,  as  it  is  when 
awake,  or  claiming  to  be  so,  in  thus  attributing  to  riper  reason  a 
change  wrought  in  his  vision  by  enchantment.  The  bewitching 
juice  only  develops  a  "higher  law"  in  him.     And  in  like  sort  it 

125 


Notes  A  MIDSUMMER^ 

often  happens  that  men,  mistaking  change  for  progress,  grow 
the  more  opinionated  for  their  frequent  changes  of  opinion,  thus 
turning  the  natural  arguments  of  modesty  into  a  basis  of  conceit. 


ACT  THIRD. 
Scene  I. 

102.  cues  and  all: — The  cues  were  the  last  words  of  the  pre- 
ceding speech,  which  served  as  a  hint  to  him  who  was  to  speak 
next. 

io8  et  seq.  I'll  follow  you,  etc.: — The  Protean  versatility  of 
Puck  is  celebrated  in  whatsoever  has  come  down  to  us  respect- 
ing him.  Thus  in  an  old  tract  entitled  Robin  Goodfellow,  his 
Mad  Pranks  and  Merry  Jests : — 

"  Thou  hast  the  power  to  change  thy  shape 
To  horse,  to  hog,  to  dog,  to  ape." 

And  in  a  ballad  given  in  the  Introduction  to  the  same  tract : — 

"  Sometimes  a  walking  fire  he'd  be, 
And  lead  them  from  their  way." 

128,  129.  The  ousel  cock,  etc. : — In  the  opinion  of  some  com- 
mentators, the  Poet  or  Bottom  is  a  little  out  here  in  his  ornithol- 
ogy. This  opinion  has  probably  arisen  from  a  change  in  the  use 
of  the  name  since  Shakespeare's  day ;  ousel  being  then  used  to 
denote  the  blackbird,  as  is  evident  from  the  Thirteenth  Song  of 
Drayton's  Polyolbion  : — 

"  The  woosel  near  at  hand,  that  hath  a  golden  bill, 
As  nature  him  had  mark'd  of  purpose  t'  let  us  see 
That  from  all  other  birds  his  tunes  should  different  be ; 
For  with  their  vocal  sounds  they  sing  to  pleasant  May; 
Upon  his  dulcet  pipe  the  merle  doth  only  play." 

And  in  a  note  upon  this  passage  he  adds :  "  Of  all  birds  the 
blackbird  only  whistleth " ;  thus  showing  that  the  ousel,  the 
merle,  and  the  blackbird  were  all  one.  Bottom's  orange-tawny 
bill  accords  with  what  Yarrell  says  of  the  blackbird :  "  The  beak 
and  the  edges  of  the  eyelids  in  the  adult  male  are  gamboge  yel- 

126 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Notes 

low"    The  whistling  of  the  blackbird  is  thus  spoken  of  in  Spen- 
ser's Epithalamion  : — 

"  The  merry  Larke  hir  mattins  sings  aloft ; 
The  Thrush  replyes ;  the  Mavis  descant  playes; 
The  Ousell  shrills ;  the  Ruddock  warbles  soft." 

174.  glow-worm's  eyes : — "  I  know  itot,"  says  Johnson,  "  how 
Shakespeare,  who  commonly  derived  his  knowledge  of  nature 
from  his  own  observation,  happened  to  place  the  glow-worm's 
light  in  his  eyes,  which  is  only  in  his  tail."  It  is,  however,  re- 
marked by  Mason  and  Halliwell  that  the  Poet  may  have  intended 
to  designate  the  lights  of  the  insect  as  eyes  without  any  reference 
to  their  situation. 

186.  desire  you  of  more  acquaintance: — This  kind  of  phrase- 
ology was  not  uncommon.  So  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  IV.  i. 
402:  "I  humbly  do  desire  your  Grace  of  pardon."  In  Lusty 
Juventus,  a  Morality,  we  have:  "I  shall  desire  you  of  better  ac- 
quaintance." And  in  An  Humorous  Day's  Mirth,  1599:  "I  do 
desire  you  of  more  acquaintance." 

Scene  II. 

97.  that  costs  the  fresh  blood  dear: — An  allusion  to  the  ancient 
notion  that  every  sigh  cost  or  consumed  a  drop  of  blood.  Re- 
peatedly found  in  Shakespeare,  in  various  forms ;  as  "  blood- 
consuming  sighs,"  "  hXood-drinking  sighs,"  "hlood-sucking  sighs." 

150.  join  in  souls: — That  is,  join  heartily,  unite  in  the  same 
mind. 

198-208.  Is  all  the  counsel,  etc. : — Gibbon,  in  his  account  of  the 
holy  friendship  between  the  great  Cappadocian  saints,  Basil  and 
Gregory  Nazianzen,  Decline  and  Fall,  Chap,  xxvii.,  note  29,  refers 
to  this  passage,  and  quotes  a  parallel  passage  from  Gregory's 
Poem  on  his  own  Life.  The  historian  adds :  "  Shakespeare  had 
never  read  the  poems  of  Gregory  Nazianzen,  he  was  ignorant  of 
the  Greek  language ;  but  his  mother-tongue,  the  language  of  Na- 
ture, is  the  same  in  Cappadocia  and  in  Britain."  The  following 
translation  of  St.  Gregory's  lines  is  given  in  Newman's  Church 
of  the  Fathers : — 

"  May  I  not  boast  how  in  our  day  we  moved 
A  truest  pair,  not  without  name  in  Greece ; 
Had  all  things  common,  and  one  only  soul 

127 


Notes  A  MIDSUMMER^ 

In  lodgment  of  a  double  outward  frame? 
Our  special  bond,  the  thought  of  God  above, 
And  the  high  longing  after  holy  things. 
And  each  of  us  was  bold  to  trust  in  each, 
Unto  the  emptying  of  our  deepest  hearts ; 
And  then  we  loved  the  more,  for  sympathy 
Pleaded  in  each,  and  knit  the  twain  m  one." 

379-  night's  swift  dragons : — The  chariot  of  Night  was  fabled 
as  drawn  by  a  team  of  dragons,  that  is,  serpents,  who  were 
thought  to  be  always  awake,  because  they  slept  with  their  eyes 
open,  and  therefore  were  selected  for  this  purpose.  So  in  Cym- 
heline,  II.  ii.  48:  "Swift,  swift,  you  dragons  of  the  night."  And 
in  Milton's  //  Penseroso  : — 

"  Smoothing  the  rugged  brow  of  night, 
While  Cynthia  checks  her  dragon  yoke." 

382,  383.  damned  spirits  all,  etc. : — The  ghosts  of  self-murder- 
ers, who  were  buried  in  crossroads ;  and  of  those  who  being 
drowned  were  condemned  (according  to  the  opinion  of  the  an- 
cients) to  wander  for  a  hundred  years,  as  the  rites  of  sepulture 
had  never  been  regularly  bestowed  on  their  bodies.  See  the  fine 
passage  in  Hamlet,  I.  i.  149  et  seq.  "  I  have  heard,  the  cock,  that 
is  the  trumpet  to  the  morn,"  etc. 


ACT  FIFTH. 
Scene  I. 

4  seething  brains: — So  in  The  Tempest,  V.  i.  59,  60:  "Thy 
brains,  now  useless,  boil'd  within  thy  skull."  And  in  The  Win- 
ter's Tale,  III.  iii.  64,  65 :  "  Would  any  but  these  boiled  brains 
of  nineteen  and  two-and-twenty  hunt  this  weather?  ' 

108- 1 1 7.  //  zve  offend,  etc.: — Had  "this  fellow"  stood  "upon 
points,"  his  carefully  mispointed  speech  would  have  read  nearly 
as  follows : — 

"  If  we  offend,  it  is  with  our  good  will 
That  you  should  think  we  come  not  to  offend; 
But  with  good  will  to  show  our  simple  skill; 
That  is  the  true  beginning.    Of  our  end 

128 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Notes 

Consider  then :  we  come ;  but  in  despite 

We  do  not  come :  as  minding  to  content  you, 

Our  true  intent  is  all  for  your  delight. 

We  are  not  here,  that  you  should  here  repent  you. 

The  actors  are  at  hand ;  and,  by  their  show, 

You  shall  know  all  that  you  are  like  to  know." 

166,167.  It  is  the  wittiest  partition,  etc.: — Farmer  would  read 
"heard  in  discourse,"  making  the  equivoke  on  partition  an  allu- 
sion "  to  the  many  stupid  partitions  in  the  argumentative  writings 
of  the  time  " ;  and  other  commentators  are  disposed  to  follow 
Farmer  in  this  explanation. 

368  et  seq.  Upon  this  passage  Coleridge  thus  remarks  in  his 
Literary  Remains :  "  Very  Anacreon  in  perfectness,  proportion, 
grace,  and  spontaneity !  So  far  it  is  Greek ; — but  then  add,  O, 
what  wealth,  what  wild  ranging,  and  yet  what  compression  and 
condensation,  of  English  fancy !  In  truth,  there  is  nothing  in 
Anacreon  more  perfect  than  these  lines,  or  half  so  rich  and 
imaginative.    They  form  a  speckless  diamond." 

387.  To  sweep,  etc. : — That  is,  "  to  sweep  the  dust  from  behind 
the  door."  Collier  informs  us  that  on  the  title-page  of  the  tract, 
Robin  Goodfellow,  his  Mad  Pranks  and  Merry  Jests,  Puck  is 
represented  in  a  woodcut  with  a  broom  over  his  shoulder.  The 
whole  fairy  nation,  for  which  he  served  as  prime  minister,  were 
great  sticklers  for  cleanliness. 

401.  shall  blessed  be: — This  ceremony  was  in  old  times  used  at 
all  marriages.  Douce  has  given  the  formula  from  the  Manual 
for  the  use  of  Salisbury.  In  the  French  romance  of  Melusine, 
the  Bishop  who  marries  her  to  Raymondin  blesses  the  nuptial  bed. 
The  ceremony  is  there  represented  in  a  very  ancient  cut.  The 
good  prelate  is  sprinkling  the  parties  with  holy  water.  Some- 
times, during  the  benediction,  the  married  couple  only  sat  on  the 
bed;  but  they  generally  received  a  portion  of  the  consecrated 
bread  and  wine. 

414.  And  each  several  chamber  bless: — Of  this  ancient  rite 
Chaucer  gives  an  example  in  The  Milleres  Tale : — 

"  Therwith  the  nightspel  said  he  anon  rightes, 
On  the  foure  halves  of  the  hous  aboute, 
And  on  the  threswold  of  the  dore  withoute. 
Lord  Jesu  Crist,  and  seint  Benedight, 
Blisse  this  hous  from  every  wicked  wight,"  etc. 

428.  Puck,  it  seems,  was  a  suspicious  name,  which  makes  that 

129 


Notes  A  MIDSUMMER^ 

this  merry,  mischievous  gentleman  does  well  to  assert  his  hon- 
esty. As  for  the  name  itself,  it  was  no  better  than  iiend  or  devil. 
In  Piers  Ploughman's  Vision,  one  personage  is  called  helle 
Pouke.    And  the  name  thus  occurs  in  Spenser's  Epithalamion : — 

"  Ne  let  the  pouke,  nor  other  evill  sprights, 
Ne  let  mischievous  witches  with  theyr  charmes, 
Ne  let  hobgoblms,  names  whose  sence  we  see  not, 
Fray  us  with  things  that  be  not." 


130 


NIGHT'S  DREAM 

Questions  on 
A  Midsummer -Night's  Dream. 

I.  As  to  the  time  of  its  composition,  with  what  group  of  com- 
edies does  this  one  belong? 
2    What  elements  does  it  possess  in  common  with  these 
■X    Where  did  Shakespeare  derive  suggestions  for  the  play. 

4.  What  are  the  speculations  as  to  the  occasion  of  the  writmg 
of  this  play? 

ACT   FIRST. 

5.  What  celebration  is  approaching  at  the  opening  of  the  play? 
6    How  has  Theseus  wooed  Hippolyta? 

7.  State  the  complaint  against  his  daughter  that  Egeus  brings 

^^  8.  What  ^penalty  is   threatened   for  the  refusal   of  Hermia  to 

obey  her  father?  ..11  ^        ^f 

9.  Is  there  any  particular  differentiation  m  the  characters  ot 

the  two  lovers?  .   ^ 

10.  Who  is  Helena,  and  what  is  the  story  of  her  lo^e-affair  ? 

11.  What  is  the  plan  for  flight  of  Hermia  and  Lysander?    What 
does  Helena  propose  in  relation  to  it? 

12.  Has  Sc.  ii.  been  foreshadowed? 

13.  Mention  the  people  here  introduced  and  the  characteristic 

attributes  of  each.  c    ^ 

14.  How  has  Shakespeare  effected  the  removal  of  scene  from 

the  citv  ? 

15.  Indicate  the  lines  of  action  laid  down  in  the  first  Act. 

ACT  SECOND. 

16   Why  were  the  fairies  not  introduced  in  the  first  Act? 
17'.  How  is  Puck  presented?     Give  the  meaning  of  the  epithet 
applied  to  him. 

18.  Explain  his  identity  in  English  fairy  lore. 

131 


Questions  A  MIDSUMMER= 

19.  Mention  any  lines  to  show  how  Shakespeare  uses  ideas  of 
space  and  time  in  harmony  with  the  diminutiveness  of  the  fairies. 

20.  What  is  the  cause  of  the  quarrel  between  Oberon  and 
Titania? 

21.  How  does  Shakespeare  assign  a  supernatural  origin  to  dis- 
turbances of  nature? 

22.  How  does  he  show  the  benevolent  inclinations  of  the 
fairies  ? 

23.  Are  these  relationships  of  the  natural  and  the  supernatural 
to  be  regarded  as  indicating  something  of  Shakespeare's  philo- 
sophical creed,  or  to  be  interpreted,  in  the  spirit  of  the  play,  as 
mere  interesting  fancies? 

24.  How  does  Oberon  describe  the  fantasies  with  which  he 
proposes  to  fill  Titania's  mind? 

25.  Though  Puck  blunders  in  his  search  for  the  Athenian,  how 
does  his  mischievous  nature  exhibit  itself  in  putting  forth  the 
charm  on  Lysander? 

26.  What  is  the  dramatic  function  of  the  juice  from  the  flower 
called  love-in-idleness? 

27.  What  Complication  is  introduced  at  the  end  of  the  second 
Act? 

ACT  THIRD. 

28.  Describe  the  rehearsal  of  the  play  held  by  the  mechanicals. 

29.  Do  you  see  here  anjlhing  satirical  of  the  manner  of  stage 
representation  in  Shakespeare's  time? 

30.  How  does  the  dramatist  enforce  the  value  of  imagination? 

31.  How  has  the  transformation  of  Bottom  been  prepared  for 
from  the  beginning  of  the  play?  Why  is  he  the  only  one  trans- 
formed ? 

32.  What  effect  has  this  upon  his  companions?  How  does  it 
affect  himself? 

33.  How  does  Titania  address  Bottom  when  she  awakens? 
What  is  the  comic  effect  of  her  deception? 

34.  Compare,  for  comic  effect,  the  directions  Titania  gives  the 
attendants  of  Bottom  with  what  Bottom  himself  says  of  the  serv- 
ices he  will  ask  of  them. 

35.  How  does  Puck  report  Titania's  awaking  and  infatuation? 

36.  Describe  how  the  rival  lovers  desert  Hermia  and  turn  to 
Helena. 

37.  What  view  of  the  case  does  Helena  take? 

132 


NIGHT'S  DREAM  Questions 


38.  Explain  the  knot  of  complications  as  it  is  fully  tied  after 
the  two  lovers  and  the  two  ladies  are  introduced  on  the  stage. 

39.  Show  the  difference  between  the  origin  of  the  misunder- 
standings in  the  men  and  in  the  women. 

40  Compare  this  Scene  with  any  scene  of  misunderstandings 
and  cross-purposes  in  The  Comedy  of  Errors,  and  tell  wherein 

they  differ.  ,      , 

41.  How  does  Oberon  direct  Puck  to  manage  the  lovers  so  as 

to  avert  the  quarrel? 

42.  Is  the  plot  now  brought  to  a  climax?  What  will  be  the 
work  of  resolution? 

ACT   FOURTH. 

43.  Indicate  what  it  is  that  makes  the  opening  of  the  fourth 
Act,  showing  Bottom  with  the  fairies,  supremely  comic. 

44.  What  is  Oberon's  feeling  at  seeing  Titania's  infatuation, 
and  how  does  he  bring  her  infatuation  to  an  end? 

45.  How  is  the  resolution  of  the  drama  completely  foretold? 
At  what  time  do  Theseus  and  Hippolyta  enter  the  forest,  and 
what  is  their  errand  ther*^^  ,    ,      ,         r-      ^  ^ 

46.  Is  the  spirit  of  this  episode  more  English  than  Greek.'' 
Explain  how. 

47.  What  is  the  rite  of  May  ? 

48.  How  does  Demetrius  effect  the  resolution  of  that  part  of 
the  action  concerning  the  lovers  ? 

49.  How  does  Theseus  confirm  and  complete  this  resolution? 

50.  Describe  Bottom's  reflections  on  awaking. 

51.  Was  Bottom  overtaken  with  syncope?  Show  how  Shake- 
speare has  used  some  of  the  symptoms  of  this  pathological  case. 

52.  How  does  Sc.  ii.  advance  the  plot? 

53.  Is  it  a  clever  stroke  of  the  asinine  Bottom  to  assume  that 
their  play  is  preferred ;  or  is  there  here  an  error  of  construction, 
since  we  hear  in  the  fifth  Act  the  discussion  of  Theseus  and 
Philostrate  over  the  program  of  plays  and  find  them  making  a 
choice  ? 

ACT    FIFTH. 

54.  Explain  the  temper  of  the  dialogue  of  Theseus  and  Hip- 
polyta at  the  opening  of  the  Act.  What  does  it  teach  of  their 
characters  ? 

133 


Questions 

55.  What,  for  instance,  would  Theseus  have  thought  of  Hamlet? 

56.  To  what  plays  or  poems  do  you  find  reference  in  the  list  of 
masques  that  Philostrate  presents  for  Theseus's  approval? 

57.  For  what  reason  does  Theseus  select  the  play  of  the  me- 
chanicals?    How  does  he  justify  this  choice  to  Hippolyta? 

58.  What  is  the  comic  nature  of  the  Prologue  as  Quince  de- 
livers it?    How  is  he  like  the  great  clerks  referred  to  by  Theseus? 

59.  Define  the  kind  of  amusement  that  the  Duke's  company 
derive  from  the  play  of  the  mechanicals.  Is  it  of  the  same  nature 
as  that  felt  by  a  spectator  of  Shakespeare's  play? 

60.  What  does  Shakespeare  say  about  plays  in  general  and  the 
spirit  in  which  they  should  be  viewed? 

61.  Contrast  Hippolyta's  intolerance  of  the  play  with  the  spirit 
shown  by  Theseus.    Why  does  she  ring  the  changes  on  Moon? 

62.  Describe  the  epilogue  spoken  by  the  fairies. 


63.  Comment  on  three  points  of  portrayal  in  this  play — char- 
acter, passion,  dramatic  movement. 

64.  What  are  the  poetical  qualities  of  the  play? 

65.  Consider  some  details  that  make  up  the  diversified  world 
of  the  fairies,  and  comment  on  the  burden  laid  upon  the  imagina- 
tion in  a  stage  representation. 

66.  What  has  Shakespeare  himself  supplied  relative  to  a  solu- 
tion of  this  problem? 

67.  Compare  and  contrast  Puck  with  Ariel.  Which  is  the  more 
lovable?    Which  the  more  interesting? 

68.  Summarize  the  traits  that  are  possessed  by  Bottom.  How 
is  he  a  composite  of  parts  of  Dogberry  and  Malvolio? 

69.  Explain  the  mixture  of  national  elements  in  this  play. 
State  some  examples  of  anachronism.  What  national  traits  dom- 
inate the  play? 

70.  Show  the  influence  of  this  play  upon  the  romantic  revival  at 
the  end  of  the  eighteenth  and  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century. 


134 


UNIVERSITY   OF   CALIFORNIA-LOS   ANGELES 


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